


Triumvirate

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action, Canon - Enhances original, Canon - Non-canonical to good purpose, Canon - Outstanding AU/reinterpretation, Characters - Family Dynamics, Characters - Friendship, Characters - Good villain(s), Characters - New interpretation, Characters - Outstanding OC(s), Characters - Strongly in character, Characters - Well-handled emotions, Other - Freeform, Plot - Can't stop reading, Plot - Disturbing/frightening/unsettling, Plot - Fast moving, Plot - Good pacing, Writing - Clear prose, Writing - Engaging style, Writing - Mythic/Poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2003-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 162,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one who made it. </p><p>The one who unmade it. </p><p>The one who was unmade because of it. </p><p>When these prophetic words escape Galadriel, Aaron Stone discovers that darkness did not die with John Malcolm and his plans for global chaos is very much alive. As Aaron, Eve, Legolas and Gandalf return to the modern world, elsewhere Byran Miller, unwittingly walks into more trouble than he possibly imagine and how closely his fate is bound to Galadriel's prophecy.. </p><p>MODERN AU (2)<br/>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Concerning Fred

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

  
Her parents discovered rather early on that she was an odd child.  
  
She was odd in a way that was rather difficult to explain. She was free of all  
the habits that made some children intolerable, being neither excessively  
fidgety nor prone to temper tantrums when she was refused her way. While she  
was as energetic as any six-year-old child, she was not hyperactive and did not  
require being the centre of attraction. In some respects, her parents were  
actually quite grateful to have a child they could leave in her room for a  
length of time and be certain that when they returned, they would find her  
exactly where they had left her. Usually sprawled across the floor, fastidiously  
colouring in her Thomas the tank engine colouring book with her crayons or if  
she were in one of her greyer moods, her Harry Potter.  
  
She tended to favour the beloved train instead of the wizard.  
  
If she were odd, it was because she preferred to be alone rather than  
associating with children her own age  
  
When she was taken to class at the Caerau Infant School, it was noticed  
immediately that she had difficulty making friends. This had come as no  
surprise to her parents who had discovered this quirk after numerous failed  
attempts at forcing the child to socialise at playgrounds or the community  
playgroups in the park. At family gatherings, she would be the child alone in  
the corner of the room, amusing herself with her colouring books or whatever  
Pingo the Penguin was up to on the television.  
  
There actually came a point in time when her parents wondered if she were  
suffering some latent mental deficiency or worse yet, possessed some anti-social  
disorder that would turn harm her later in life. Fortunately, the psychiatrist  
they consulted allayed their fears because he found the girl to be very  
intelligent, if not just a little quiet. There was nothing in her detached  
manner that seemed to indicate any serious mental problems and explained her  
behaviour as being nothing more than natural shyness.  
  
Not every child was born an extrovert, he has said reassuringly.  
  
It was easy to accept that as an explanation because while the child was rather  
detached around strangers, her parents garnered an altogether different  
response. Rather than going to school, she preferred to accompany her mother to  
the markets at Riverside, while her father went to his civil servant job at the  
local council. Although her mother would not be swayed in allowing her to miss  
school during the week, on weekends she was allowed to come. Every Saturday,  
the locals who volunteered their services at the Riverside markets were  
delighted to see a moppet with mesmerizing blue eyes and a thick mane of dark  
brown hair, enjoying herself immensely at her mum’s side.  
  
There was nothing to distinguish her from any other child when she was born in  
the summer of 1996. Christened a few weeks later as Frederica Lindsey Bailey at  
the local church in the community of Riverside in Cardiff, she was called Fred  
for short and had been a reasonably behaved baby that spared her parents the  
nightmares associated with caring for a newborn infant. If it were not for the  
distant look in her eyes that seemed for a moment, so much older than her years,  
there would have been no reason to worry at all.  
As time passed, they became comfortable with the fact that their daughter was  
different but not in a bad way. There was a quiet strength residing beneath  
seemingly fragile porcelain beauty of her face. As a child it was difficult to  
see but it was there undoubtedly. She would always be a serious child and such  
children though a little unconventional, would never cause their parents too  
much grief.  
  
Still, if either Mr or Mrs Bailey had ever bothered to ask, the one thing  
parents never thought to do with their children, they would have been surprised  
by the answer and possibly find that they were ill equipped to make any sense of  
it. Despite her intelligence, Fred was still a child lacking the experience  
needed to articulate the reason for her behaviour in a manner either of her  
parents would have been able to understand. She still remembered their surprise  
when she had asked them to turn off the lights in her bedroom at night. Her  
father had ruffled her hair and smiled proudly at his brave little girl since  
most children preferred the opposite. He never suspected for a moment that  
something else greater than the dark frightened his child. For Fred, it was very  
simple really.  
  
The shadows hid her at night. The lights did not.  
  
For as long as she could remember, Fred knew she had to be careful. This  
knowledge was ingrained from the first moment her infant mind began to assert  
itself into true consciousness. When she was a baby it instilled itself upon  
her as simple feeling of uneasiness. Thus as an infant, she did the only thing  
she could do. She remained silent so that she would not draw its attention. When  
she grew a little older, she distinguished who could be trusted and who could  
not. Her parents were safe. Strangers were not. The sensation told her that  
strangers were to be approached with deliberation and with each passing day, the  
threat in her mind grew just a little more.  
  
By the time she was four years old, it had become a constant companion. She  
could feel it at the edge of her consciousness, tugging gently at her mind even  
during the moments when she experienced happiness. It marred every joyful  
emotion in her life with its presence; blight upon her existence she did not  
know how she had acquired but was certain would follow her forever. It loomed  
over her life like a storm cloud waiting to ruin an otherwise perfect sunny day.  
Despite her happy childhood with parents who loved her dearly, Fred was gripped  
with the fear that all this was fleeting.  
  
Something was waiting for her in the dark, something that watched and waited for  
her in secret. Sometimes, she could feel its closeness so strongly that it was  
difficult to breathe and all she wanted to do was run and hide so that it would  
never find her. Unfortunately, she also knew that while she breathed, she would  
never truly escape it. The danger existed because she existed. Fred could  
articulate this to no one and so she kept it to herself, aware that sometimes  
her parents looked at her oddly and she did not at all like how that felt.  
  
As much as Fred loved her parents, she was struck with this terrible foreboding  
that their presence in her life was temporary and so she clung to them,  
desperate to alert them of the danger when it came, even though she had no idea  
what form it would take. There were moments when her mother could almost see the  
terror in her eyes but the concept that her child could be so afraid was  
unimaginable so she was never able to make the leap to inquire its cause. As  
Fred grew older, she began to feel the walls of her life closing in on her, as  
if her happy childhood was sands in an upturned hourglass, dwindling in greater  
quantity with each passing day.  
  
Shortly after her sixth birthday, the dreams began.  
  
Dark and terrible, they were dreams no child should ever have to endure. The  
first time she had them, Fred had awakened screaming hysterically, body covered  
in perspiration and her eyes wide with terror. It took almost five minutes  
before her frightened parents were able to discern that she was not suffering a  
fit of some kind and she had been awakened rudely by a nightmare. Even when they  
had convinced her she was awake and that everything was alright, she was shaking  
so badly that her mother considered taking her to the hospital, fearing she was  
suffering a seizure of some sort.  
  
When finally she was calm enough to speak coherently or to recognise her  
surroundings, the mere suggestion that she should return to sleep was met with  
more blind panic and tears. In the between her near hysterical tears and her  
incomprehensible stutters, they discern that she was frightened out of her mind  
at what she had seen in the dreamscape and if she should sleep, the monster  
would come for again. In the end, the only way that Fred could even consent to  
closing her eyes was if she was allowed to sleep in her parent’s room for the  
rest of the night.  
  
Unfortunately, the incident was not an isolated event. Seven days later, she  
experienced another harrowing night and after that, the dreams continued until  
Fred was waking in terror almost three times a week, leaving her parents at a  
loss over what to do. It was becoming so bad that Fred was dreading going to  
sleep at night and often had to be convinced that it was time to sleep. However,  
the nightmares would be awaiting for her as soon as she closed her eyes and each  
time, she would be unable to recount what she had seen, knowing only that it was  
real and it was coming for her.  
  
Frantically, her parents believing that this time they had reason for concern,  
returned her to the ministrations of the psychiatrist who agreed that Fred  
should begin therapy, if for the child’s sake then for her parents. However, for  
most part, the man dismissed the incidents as just another childhood ill that  
would eventually fade away with time. The suggestion of a nightlight convinced  
Mr and Mrs Bailey that the doctor had no idea what was wrong with their  
daughter. Unfortunately, it appeared no one else did either. A battery of  
tests concluded that Fred suffered no illness or condition that could explain  
why she awoke in cold sweat in the middle of the night, screaming.  
  
Her behaviour also took a marked changed from seriousness to utter paranoia.  
Suddenly their daughter did not want to go to school at all and the insistence  
to remain close to either one of them at all times was becoming more than either  
parent could bear. They knew something was wrong with their child but no agency  
they enlisted from doctors, teachers and psychiatrists could prove it. One day,  
Mrs Bailey had walked into the house after spending the afternoon gardening and  
discovered someone had rummaged through her jewellery box and stolen all her  
rings.  
  
She was on her way to telephone the police to report the burglary when a chance  
glance in the direction of the parlour solved the disappearance but not the  
mystery. Her wedding ring which she took off when she worked in the garden and  
other rings of similar significance had been cast into the fireplace. She had  
found Fred sitting in front of the fireplace, watching the flames turn her  
wedding ring into a molten pool of gold. When questioned why she would do such  
a thing, Fred would look at her mother as if there was something she wanted  
desperately to say but when finally spoken, was nothing more than an enigmatic  
riddle.  
  
“They might speak.”  
  
She had began her counselling the very next day and returned from her first  
session with a diagnosis from the psychiatrist that she was suffering  
unspecified feelings of persecution, a rather peculiar diagnosis for one as  
young as she. Were they being too hard on her with discipline? The Bailey’s  
endured the probing questions into their capacity as parents and while they were  
being subjected to this invasion, Fred’s nightmares continued.  
  
Fred did not lie when she told her parents that she could not remember her  
dreams.  
  
The truth was she really did not. However, when she awoke, it was with the  
sensation that the dreams were somehow allowing her mysterious nemesis a window  
into her life and in turn, Fred was able to look back and see the terrible,  
terrible things it had planned for her. Despite knowing very little about this  
enemy, there was one thing of which Fred was absolutely certain. Its hatred.  
  
In the aftermath of the nightmares she could never quite remember or knew how to  
express, Fred could sense the potency of its terrible black rage as if it were a  
living thing in itself. She could sense its heart beating, driven with  
single-minded purposes in unity with its master to find her and destroy her.  
The walls were beginning to close, Fred could feel it. It would not be long now.  
  
It was coming for her.  



	2. Chapter One: The Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

EARLIER…  
  
Whenever Aaron woke up in the morning and looked out his window, he was struck  
with the absurd thought that he was not in Kansas anymore.  
  
It was difficult not to think this way when the view outside his window was the  
magnificent city of Tirion constructed by the Noldor and Vanya elves on top of  
the hill of Túna in Calacirya, the Pass of Light. The city was a construct of  
white pearl and crystal, with jewel-encrusted walls and terraces with pristine  
gardens. It stood high enough for its occupants to enjoy a panoramic view of  
the sea as well as the equally breathtaking Pelóri Mountains. Whenever Aaron  
found himself greeted by the resplendent beauty of this ancient land, there was  
a brief moment when he wondered if he was truly awake or was this all a product  
of a particularly enchanting dream.  
  
After a year in Valinor, it was still a difficult thing to distinguish.  
  
Since their arrival in Valinor, the mysterious land built by the Valar in ages  
so far in the distant past, it could not even be considered pre-history, Aaron  
had found his perceptions of the world altering drastically on a daily basis.  
Everything he had ever thought he knew about the world, which the elves called  
Arda, was nothing akin to the truth. He was a product of twentieth century  
thinking, where Darwinism and physical science purportedly had all the answers  
to one's role in the scheme of things. Until that fateful day when he had  
unknowingly accepted the charge of a new patient whom he had labelled Moses,  
Aaron had never considered that what he knew amounted to very little.  
  
It was a little more than a year after that day and Aaron found, not only the  
woman that he knew he would spend the rest of his life with, but he was sharing  
that life with her in a place with whom not even dreams could compare. Since  
their arrival in Valinor, Aaron and Eve had been permanent additions to the  
House of Elrond in the city of Tirion, in the lands of Valinor called Eldamar,  
the portion of the Undying Lands allotted to the elves. Aaron did not think he  
would ever be able to wrap his mind around the notion that the elves shared the  
same island with their gods. However, as far as he understood it, the pantheon  
of gods the elves referred to as the Valar were apparently created by a higher  
power called Iluvutar who did not reside on the same plane as any of his  
creations.  
  
As a psychiatrist, this was the hardest concept for him to grasp, the fact that  
he and Eve were the only modern humans to be provided with irrefutable proof  
that there was a supreme being and that the afterlife was not a fanciful  
construct of organized religion but a reality that was awaiting them some day.  
There was life after death because he and Eve were living proof of it. They had  
been a hundred thousand years ago, Aragorn Elessar and Arwen Evenstar, lovers  
bound in fate and time that had found each other again.  
However, he was happy to have his beliefs challenge because living in Valinor  
meant that he could hear the Valar sing.  
  
And for that privilege alone, he would have believed anything.  
  
Living in Valinor was like taking a step through time, to a more innocent age.  
There was a profound sense of reverence for all living things so therefore the  
land was cherished and nurtured. The elves constructed wondrous cities that  
appeared to blend into the natural beauty of Valinor instead of against it. It  
was a place dedicated to music, artistry and thought, a monument to civilisation  
once greed, lust and war were forgotten. Aaron had never thought he would  
experience this peace in his lifetime but in Valinor it was not an ideal to be  
pursued, it was a way of life.  
  
In his youth, he had backpacked across Europe and though the old world had built  
great cities, compared to the majesty of Tirion, Valimar and Alqualonde, they  
seemed crude and unfinished. Yet it was more than just the architecture and  
land that made Valinor so remarkable, it was an understanding that even though  
they lived apart from the world, they cared what happened to it. T  
  
Aaron wished that the rest of the world could feel the same way.  
  
At first, he had thought he would never get accustomed to living in this place  
because he was too much a product of his race to ever be content with the  
serenity of Valinor. However, Elrond and Celebrian had welcomed Eve and him into  
their home, treated them both like long lost kin which in truth they were and  
opened a whole new way of existence to them. There was so much to see, so much  
to learn. Aaron upon discovering that Elrond was a healer had spent a good deal  
of time with the elven lord, letting Elrond teach him what he knew.  
  
Elrond had said with a smile, that he would be happy to share his knowledge with  
Aaron again.  
  
There were portraits of Aragorn and Arwen in Elrond’s house and Aaron were  
struck by how closely he resembled the very accomplished king he saw on the  
canvas. The man who was adventurer, woodsman, healer and king who had brought to  
end a thousand years of uncertainty for his people and had made his kingdom a  
beacon of light for centuries until the dark ages had reclaimed the world. It  
was no wonder that Legolas had recognised him immediately. They were almost  
identical, even without the four days growth that Aragorn wore on his face.  
Aaron would have thought being king might actually require the man to shave but  
supposed in those days, grooming was not exactly a high point, even for a king.  
  
It was Arwen’s portrait that took his breath away however. Eve was beautiful to  
him in away that transcended physical appearance but when he saw the Evenstar  
for the first time, he could very well understand what had driven Aragorn  
Elessar to move heaven and earth to make the lovely elf maiden his. Though they  
were identical in appearance there was something luminescent about the Evenstar  
when she looked at him from the canvas. It was able to make one forget body and  
soul just by being in her presence. Elrond had said that she was the fairest elf  
maiden of her day and Aaron could very well believe it. He tried to imagine  
Aragorn at twenty, meeting this vision of beauty and realised the future king  
never really had a chance but to be smitten by her.  
  
It pleased Aaron to know that the king in the portrait did win his elf maiden  
and that they lived a long life together. It gave Aaron hope that even when his  
own life was done, somehow he and Eve would find each other again. The hope of  
that made death a little easier to bear.  
  
When he was not learning the healing arts with Elrond, he went travelling with  
Legolas who was eager to show he and Eve, the richness of the Undying Lands.  
From Eldamar, they sailed to Tol Eressea and Alqualonde on the Anemone, the  
vessel Aaron and Eve had sailed to bring Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan home to  
Valinor. They walked the woods of Orome and visited the gardens of Lorien where  
Gandalf who went by the name of Olorin on these shores, resided. If Aaron had  
thought living in this utopia would have stagnated him, he was highly mistaken  
because there were aeons of knowledge in Valinor that appreciated a new mind to  
shape.  
  
The exchange was mutual however because the elves were thirsty for knowledge  
regarding the outside world despite their decision to remain in cloistered in  
their eternal paradise. As the Firstborn who had taught all the other races the  
power of speech, they had been eager to learn English and any other language  
that Aaron and Eve was able to teach them. It was quite something to discover a  
group of elves trying to conjugate verbs in Spanish and even more startling to  
hear them attempting to speak it. Aaron would tell them about man’s progress  
(such as it was) since the early days of civilisation. Some of them had ventured  
forth from Valinor as late as three thousand years ago and found nothing they  
could consider progress, which was why none had wanted to return since.  
  
Unfortunately, Aaron and Eve’s stories about a mechanized, urban world with its  
threats of deforestation, environmental pollution, thermonuclear Armageddon and  
global warming did not improve their view that the world had not changed for the  
better. In truth, as the two humans described it to their immortal companions,  
Aaron could not help thinking that they were right. How the Valar regarded these  
tales, Aaron was uncertain but Gandalf seemed to think that the recent excursion  
beyond Valinor had given them much food for thought.  
  
It was quite a sobering experience to know that the gods walked among them, that  
to look up the peak of the eastern Pelóri Mountains was to see Taniquetil, the  
home of the Valar gods Manwe and Varda. The gods in Valinor co-existed in the  
same manner that English lords might have ruled their lands in medieval times,  
taking active part in the lives of their people but remaining separate  
nonetheless, the class distinction being replaced by deification. Fortunately,  
while the Valar were held in reverence, they regarded the elves the way parents  
would watch over children. They moved about formlessly for most part but could  
take on corporeal form whenever they needed to converse with the elves or some  
other duty that required a physical presence.  
  
The Valar that did make himself known to Aaron and Eve was Aulë, who appeared to  
them in the guise of a big, fiery haired man who looked as if he had walked out  
of a movie about Vikings. He had a booming voice, a red bead and a fascination  
for everything on board the Anemone. As he went through the motor yacht,  
examining everything from the ice cream scoop to the television and video  
recorder, he demanded explanation on how it all worked, how it was made, what  
materials were used to make it. Explaining plastics to a god had very nearly  
sent Aaron into therapy himself.  
  
In fact the trawler-style motor yacht that they had used to sail to Valinor was  
a source of great fascination to all the elves, particularly the Teleri who  
lived in Tol Eressea and an elf Legolas introduced to them as Cirdan who in his  
day, had been a master ship builder. Cirdan, like the Teleri had built the  
great ships that brought the elves to Valinor. During the first few weeks of  
Aaron and Eve’s arrival, many had come to the main island just to inspect the  
vessel.  
  
The Teleri found the Anemone functional and luxurious in its comforts though not  
very aesthetic. After seeing some of the magnificently crafted ships in their  
harbour, Aaron could understand why. Sleek, long and grey, when looking at them  
through the mists a man could be forgiven for thinking that he was staring at a  
great bird gliding through the water. The ships were graceful in their  
construction with a quality about them that was as enchanted as the rest of  
Valinor.  
  
Aaron was to learn later that technically speaking, the Anemone should not have  
been able to reach Valinor at all. Only a vessel made in the manner of the  
Teleri elves could make the crossing. The construction of the magical grey ships  
was imbued with the power to reach Valinor, which was why no ship was able to  
breach the curtains that kept Valinor in its isolated dimension. However,  
Gandalf had explained that the Valar had anticipated the Anemone’s arrival  
following their part in uncovering Melkor’s presence on this earth and were more  
than happy to open the gateway to bring them to Valinor.  
  
However, Aaron sensed that there was more to it when Gandalf had made this  
explanation, though he could not say what had precipitated this suspicion. The  
psychiatrist in him was too much a student of behaviour to miss the slight  
nuances in the Maia’s manner when he made this revelation. After all, in the  
real world, Gandalf had been his patient and though it was probably completely  
unnecessary, Aaron still felt a professional obligation to the old man. He was  
certain that there was something Gandalf was hiding but despite Aaron’s  
insistence, Gandalf remaining maddeningly tight lipped about it.  
  
In the end, Aaron shrugged it off and decided Gandalf would tell him when he was  
ready.  
  
Until the day that Aaron was summoned to the house of Celeborn and Galadriel.  
  
When Haldir, devoted march warden of Galadriel and Celeborn, escorted him to  
their presence, Aaron did not know what to think. In truth, it was Galadriel who  
had made the request for his presence but that made little difference in the  
scheme of things. Being summoned by Galadriel, former Lady of Lothlorien, Noldor  
Princess and grandmother to Arwen Evenstar, was not to be taken lightly. In the  
months since his arrival in Valinor, Aaron had come to learnt that the lady did  
not make summonses lightly even though they saw each other often when Galadriel  
came to visit Eve, whom she considered her granddaughter.  
  
A summons was a formal request made only when there was something of great  
importance to be discussed and Aaron wondered what business he could have with  
the great lady to warrant that.  
  
While Aaron was more than happy to acquiesced to her summons, he was  
apprehensive as well. That nagging sensation in the back of his mind that told  
him Gandalf was keeping some secret from him had returned with a vengeance when  
he was led to the mansion occupied by the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel.  
Like all the buildings in Tirion, this one was carved out of ivory and pearl and  
yet looked perfectly natural against the backdrop of tall trees, overhanging  
branches and vines, laden with flowers. His journey through the mansion came to  
an end in Galadriel’s garden, a place with soft verdant grass, multi-coloured  
flowering shrubs and strong, trees whose leaves clenched together to form a  
canopy overhead that gave plenty of cool shade.  
  
Galadriel stood before an ornate pedestal holding a silver basin and an equally  
silver ewer next to it. An exquisitely beautiful woman with cascading hair of  
gold, she had more regal dignity in her one finger than the entire royal family  
of England since the Tudors. It was difficult to imagine that she was already  
ancient when the elves had left the world because she did not look all that much  
older than him. However, one only had to look into her eyes to see the great  
wisdom of her years.  
  
Standing next to Galadriel was Gandalf and the expression on their faces at  
seeing him was severe. Something was wrong, Aaron concluded immediately to  
himself.  
  
“You asked to see me,” Aaron addressed Galadriel after she had dismissed Haldir,  
his gaze shifting briefly in Gandalf’s direction as he spoke.  
  
“It was I who requested that Galadriel summon you here Aaron,” Gandalf answered  
before Galadriel could.  
  
“Why?” Aaron asked, feeling a tightening in his chest. Was it time for Eve and  
him to return to the outside world? Were they being asked to leave? Aaron prayed  
it was not because he rather liked being in Valinor, there was so much to learn,  
so many people he had come to care for here. It would hurt Eve to leave the  
people behind she considered her family, Elrond, Celebrian and so many others.  
  
“Still your heart Aaron,” Galadriel said smoothly and as always her words  
reached into his heart with ease. “You are welcome here for as long you live,  
you need never fear being turned away from this place.”  
  
Galadriel was one of the few people capable of appreciating that Aaron was not  
Aragorn Elessar, the Elfstone but rather a person in his own right who was in  
possession of an old soul. It was one of the main difficulties that Aaron had  
encountered since arriving at Valinor and finding himself surrounded by elves  
that remembered his earlier incarnation. Only a few people could see that it  
made him uncomfortable to be bombarded with a history that he did not remember,  
even though he could feel the person he had been at times. Galadriel reminded  
him of an old college professor he had once, who seemed capable of listening  
with good humour to the youthful prattling of all his students and offered  
advice not as a teacher but as a friend.  
  
Aaron had become accustomed to Galadriel’s ability to know what was on his mind  
and did not react to her statement but rather her response. “I’m sorry, I should  
let you tell me before jumping to conclusions.”  
  
“All is forgiven Aaron,” Galadriel smiled and then continued to speak, “you have  
been brought here at Olorin’s request and also because I have need your  
assistance. Of late, I have been visited with visions of a troubling nature that  
I am unable to explain or understand. I believe they are images of your world  
and what I see frightens me greatly.”  
  
Aaron met Gandalf’s eyes, “you can’t tell what they are?”  
  
“To some extent but not all,” Gandalf replied sincerely. “My memories as Moses  
are a mixture of lucidity and delusion, it is difficult to separate the two at  
times. It is Melkor’s legacy unfortunately. I prefer not to rely upon them. It  
is important that you see for me.”  
  
There was something more that Gandalf was not telling him but Aaron decided not  
to press. Gandalf’s statement was not entirely untrue because Legolas had told  
him that whenever Gandalf returned from death, his old persona became something  
in his past, even if the memories and the friendships of that life remained  
intact. It was difficult for Aaron to grasp but no more than anything else he  
had encountered in Valinor since his arrival.  
  
“What do you need me to do?” Aaron asked with a hint of apprehension thought he  
would never think to refuse.  
  
“Look,” she instructed as she poured clear water into the basin and beckoned him  
forward. “Tell me what you see.”  
  
Aaron gave her a look of scepticism but did as he was asked. The elves had given  
both he and Eve sanctuary from the outside world and had welcomed them with open  
arms. If helping meant taking a look into a silver basin, then Aaron was happy  
to do so without hesitation, even if he was certain that Gandalf was lying to  
him about the reason. Taking a step forward, he dropped his gaze into the  
basin below him and stared for a moment at the bottom of the silver receptacle.

”What am I looking for?” He asked when he was confronted with the reflection of  
the sunlight bouncing off the settling surface of the water.  
  
“You will know when you see it,” Galadriel answered, accustomed to his  
impatience and wondered if he would find it amusing to know that he shared this  
trait with Aragorn Elessar.  
  
“Whatever you say,” Aaron declared and furrowed his brow in concentration.  
  
The reflection on the water showed the branches overhead with points of sunlight  
spearing through the leaves. The radiance of the sunshine was difficult to keep  
staring at for long but then the leaves began to rustle even though there was no  
wind. Amber light contracted into a single burst of bright white, so intense  
that he had to glance away for a moment. Suddenly, Aaron found himself  
confronted with at parched, arid landscape with dusty winds that was reminiscent  
of Arizona perhaps, he was not quite sure until the a mushroom shaped cloud  
surged through the air like a towering skyscraper and put an end to all his  
questions. As did the shockwave that spread out in a rolling wall of dust and  
fire that swept away every thing in its path like a gust of wind blasting  
everything out of its path.  
  
For as long as he knew, the world had lived with the threat of nuclear  
destruction but what he saw in Galadriel’s mirror was no threat, it was the  
reality. Images flashed at him like exploding suns and in the aftermath of  
blinding glare, he saw the world decaying in the wake of the nuclear fire. The  
cities that survived the initial blasts were slowly poisoned by the nuclear  
winter as the world and its people began to die in the millions. In a matter of  
seconds, Aaron saw the world he knew, the one that gave birth to him, die in a  
slow choking death and it was not even the end of the nightmare. It was just the  
beginning.  
  
“What is this?” He gasped but no one answered because his journey was not done.  
  
He saw a mountain made of skeletons, bleached white from fire and the faded sun  
trying to see through the darkened skies of ash. He saw a throne carved from  
human bone, fingers taping arm rests made of skulls, fingers belonging to the  
arm of he who was now master of the dead husk that was once Arda. The master  
whose face Aaron could not see but who was staring at him with red eyes glowing  
with evil, pure and incarnate. Aaron wanted to recoil from that malevolent  
gaze, a cold shiver running through his spine as he saw other things taking  
dominion over this devastated world, things not human but strangely familiar.  
  
The skies were filled with them, the dark things. Their enormous wing flapped  
through the tainted air, breathing fire, killing those who did not die or who  
had not succumbed to becoming food of the black, crawling beasts that moved over  
the dead or the dying like an infestation. A landscape designed by Dante, made a  
reality because of nuclear fire. This couldn’t be! It was impossible! Yet,  
amidst the wreckage, he saw a silhouette behind master with the red eyes that  
made him realise that this was real and it was the future.  
  
Because behind the beast was the Statue of Liberty.  
  
That was all Aaron’s mind could manage before he pulled away from the mirror and  
stumbled backwards in near terror. He thought he had been afraid when he had  
faced the creature beneath the Malcolm Building, he learnt later on was a  
watcher, but this terrified him beyond that because it was yet to happen. Aaron  
did not know how he knew, but with every fibre of his being, was convinced it  
was the truth. He had been shown this for a reason, a reason he suspected  
Gandalf and Galadriel already knew.  
  
“This is the future?” He demanded once he was able to compose himself enough to  
speak.  
  
Galadriel and Gandalf exchanged glances before Galadriel nodded grimly. “It is  
the future.”  
  
“How?” Aaron exclaimed. “How could this be the future? Malcolm was destroyed!”  
  
“Indeed he was but he has many agents in the world,” Gandalf answered sombrely.  
“He was in your world for four centuries, biding his time, planning for the  
eventuality you saw in your vision, the vision that Galadriel, myself and the  
Valar have seen.”  
  
“Then why didn’t they destroy it when they destroyed him?” Aaron shouted, his  
heart pounding with fear as the images of that hellish world appeared in his  
mind again. He knew where this was going and he was scared to death of it.  
  
“Even during the War of the Wrath, when the Valar emerged from Valinor to fight  
Melkor, some of his agents escaped notice. They know how to hide well, they have  
done it for a long time and now they use the bodies of men to hide, the way  
Melkor hid within the body of John Malcolm. He has had four centuries to bring  
his servants from the Void into Ea, to give them new life as he was given life,”  
Gandalf explained. “The time for the Valar moving about your world is over, they  
only emerged because Melkor was beyond any of you to destroy, his agents are  
not.”

”So its up to us to clean up the mess?” Aaron hissed with more anger that he  
intended. “I can’t stop what happened in that vision. I can’t stop a nuclear  
war! My people have lived with nuclear weapons for the past fifty years and the  
best alternative they came up with is to never use the damn things! If Malcolm’s  
agents have gotten their hands on a nuclear arsenal then it is over! They only  
need to launch one and that will enough to start a chain reaction across the  
planet and you know why? As terrified as my people are to use the things,  
they’re even more terrified of being attacked first! They’ll launch a counter  
strike, which will no doubt be interpreted by someone else as a hostile act and  
the entire fucking planet will fry!”  
  
“Are you quite finished?” Gandalf gave him a stern look when he had stopped  
ranting.  
  
Aaron sucked in a deep breath and felt somewhat embarrassed for his outburst  
especially in front of Galadriel, before answering in a decidedly calmer tone,  
“I think so.”

”Good,” Gandalf replied and resumed speaking. “I suspect this vision would not  
come unless there was time to stop it from happening. Iluvutar is not so callous  
as to allow us to see what we cannot change, so there is time. I have been sent  
forth to find this evil and stop it but I cannot do it without you. After our  
encounter with Malcolm, it is clear that I need a guide through the world of men  
or else I may fall into the same trap I did once before. I need your help and  
that of Eve’s to battle this threat. You may refuse and I would understand if  
you did. Both of you have done enough service to your people in aiding the  
defeat of Melkor. There is no shame in choosing to stay here in Valinor, you  
will still be welcomed.”  
  
Aaron turned away, hating the choice before him. He wanted to stay here with  
Eve, to live in this paradise for as long as time allowed them to be together  
but he could not do it, knowing that the world he had left behind was burning in  
the fire of that hellish vision. Aaron knew the choice that Eve would make. She  
could no more stomach it then he. The world that had given them both life was  
not Valinor but it was their home once and to some degree, always would be. It  
deserved to live. It and the people who lived there deserved the chance to be  
all they could, in the proper course of time.  
  
It did not deserve the end he had seen in Galadriel’s mirror.  
  
“I am not a soldier,” Aaron said softly. “I’m just a doctor.”  
  
“You have a brave and compassionate heart,” Galadriel met his gaze. “That above  
all else made Aragorn Elessar great, not his skills as a warrior or his wisdom  
to rule. He was a man who cared about others and was willing to protect them to  
the best of his ability. That is sometimes all the difference between life and  
death but you will not be alone. Olorin will be at your side, as will Eve and I  
am certain Legolas will insist on accompanying you.”  
  
“I think you are right,” Aaron agreed. He seriously doubted that Legolas would  
let him go into any dangerous situation without being there at his side. Good  
conscience would require Aaron to try and talk him out of it but Aaron had  
learnt one thing by now it was that the elf could be exceedingly stubborn when  
the mood took him.  
  
“There is one other thing,” Galadriel replied, her voice dropping an octave  
lower as she spoke. “There was a further part to the vision that you did not see  
but I did. I believe it will help you in your quest to find the darkness that  
awaits in the outside world.”  
  
“What is it?” Aaron asked and noticed Gandalf nodding at her to continue.  
  
“It is a riddle to which we have the answer in part though what it means to your  
quest, I cannot say,” Galadriel confessed. “The visions are not always exact.  
You must interpret them as best you can.”  
  
“Nothing new there,” Aaron shrugged sarcastically. “Please, go on.”  
  
Galadriel closed her eyes and spoke softly,  
  
The hour dawns near when all must end,  
  
Evil perpetuates its own sire and child  
  
Infusing it with old spirit  
  
The one who made it, the one unmade it and the one was unmade by it  
  
The circle of gold binds them together,  
  
He who failed in one life must redeem himself in another  
  
To protect the one he did not protect before,  
  
To save the world and give peace at last to the Son of Gondor.  
  
“What does that mean?” Aaron looked quizzically at Gandalf and Galadriel.  
  
“We are not certain,” Gandalf answered truthfully. “The circle of gold sounds a  
good deal to me like the One Ring.”  
  
“The One Ring,” Aaron mused, recalling a little about the War of the Ring as  
told to him by Legolas. “Wasn’t that destroyed or something?”  
  
“It was,” Galadriel nodded slightly. “Frodo Baggins unmade it in the fires of  
Mount Doom. It ended Sauron’s reign in Middle earth.”  
  
This was getting more bizarre by the minute and Aragorn was forced to ask the  
obvious question, “well if this Frodo didn’t fail, then who did?”  
  
*************  
  
TODAY  
  
Bryan Miller sat outside the door to his section supervisor’s office and knew  
this interview was not going to go well.  
  
He supposed he should have expected this sooner or later but even the cynic in  
him had hoped it would be later. Still, he had been living on borrowed time  
since the destruction of the Malcolm Building and it was only a matter of time  
before he was made accountable for his activities since them. In truth, Bryan  
had sincerely believed that he would have found some irrefutable evidence that  
his suspicions were right, that he had not been wasting the last year and a half  
of his life on a fruitless investigation. Unfortunately, the vital evidence he  
had needed remained out of his reach and even MI6 had its limits in how long it  
wished to indulge its agents, even one as respected as Bryan Miller.  
  
Six months before the Malcolm Building had been so spectacularly destroyed in  
New York, Bryan had been just another field agent in MI6, affectionately known  
to insiders as "The Firm". Bryan had started his espionage career in the SAS  
with the Royal Marines before he was recruited and trained at the facility at  
Fort Monckton in Hampshire. A twelve year veteran, Bryan had survived more than  
his share of dangerous assignment and had seen people from all walks of like,  
from respected statesmen to parasitic vermin masquerading as men.

His life spent moving about in the shadows of the intelligence world and until a  
eighteen months ago, had come to the firm conclusion that nothing was capable of  
surprising him anymore. That is, until he stumbled upon the possibility that one  
of the world's biggest conglomerates might be secretly funding terrorism on a  
global scale.  
  
At first, Bryan had thought it was insane.  
  
John Malcolm's reputation as a businessman and entrepreneur simply did not fit  
the profile of a terrorist sympathiser. Like all large companies, Malcolm  
Industries had a vast connection of contacts throughout the world. MI6 and no  
doubt every other intelligence agency in the world, knew that Malcolm liked to  
keep people in his pocket but assume the reason for it was to further his  
commercial interests. It never occurred to them that this vast network might  
have a more sinister purpose that had little to do with corporate ambition as in  
global power. Once Bryan stared to pay attention, the possibilities demanded  
investigation, especially when it appeared that Malcolm might have been funding  
a secret organization known as the Black Serpent.  
  
Until that moment, Bryan had thought Black Serpent was little more than a myth.  
A convenient scapegoat that other agencies used whenever a bombing or an  
assassination could not be attributed to any particular group. From what little  
was known about it, the Black Serpent had all the characteristic attributed to  
groups like the PLO or Al Qaeda. Powerful, elusive with a wide network of  
operatives. Unfortunately, proof that there was even such an organization was  
scarce. However, upon further investigation, Bryan had learnt that if it did  
exist, it was set apart because of one rather curious aspect; Black Serpent did  
not seem to have a political agenda of any kind. A great deal of money was  
supposedly funnelled into organization, distributed across the globe to fund  
various terrorist groups, yet possessing no specific ideology.  
  
It was bizarre.  
  
Bryan had only managed to learn this much because of an informant and the man  
had managed to get himself killed within hours of revealing the existence of  
Black Serpent and its possible links to Malcolm Industries. Until then Bryan had  
believed what everyone else did, Black Serpent was a myth. However, as he began  
to look into the possibility of its existence, he found that it was even more  
elusive than that. No one could confirm who had first produced the name, only  
that it had been spoken about in whispers and then accepted as a joke, it not an  
outright fabrication. Fortunately, when he brought this information to his  
superiors, they were willing to give him a little latitude in investigating the  
possibility.  
  
After all, Malcolm Industries was a world conglomerate and terrorists’ links to  
such an influential company had to be investigated.  
  
Bryan’s efforts from the beginning were met with indifference to every agency he  
approached. The CIA thought he was chasing a phantom, the links between Malcolm  
Industries and the group a fabrication, fed to him by an informant looking to  
save his own skin. It was not long before Bryan was being met with the same  
response across the intelligence community. If he did not know any better, he  
would think they were trying to avoid the subject but that would mean a  
conspiracy he could not even begin to imagine and dismissed it.  
  
He was almost ready to give up when a bombing at the Pakistani embassy in  
London, produced some interesting results. Twelve people had died and MI5 who  
had conducted the investigation following the destruction, turned up some  
unusual evidence. The weapon supposedly used by the Indian terrorists claiming  
responsibility for the destruction had a Soviet detonator, one of many such  
devices that were lost and sold on the black market following the collapse of  
the USSR.  
  
Bryan followed the money trail from the sale of the weapon and through some  
rather unorthodox methods involving contacts and acquaintances that would not at  
all been approved by his superiors, he found the Indian arms dealer who had made  
the purchase. Bryan was not able to prove that Black Serpent was responsible the  
plot but he did learn that the money had been siphoned through a dummy  
corporation belonging to a subsidiary of Malcolm Industries. It was the first  
tangible piece of evidence that Bryan was able to find that Malcolm Industries  
was guilty of something, if not exactly what.  
  
Unfortunately, before he could acquire the warrants needed to take a closer look  
at the company and its CEO, the Malcolm Building was levelled by what appeared  
to be a terrorist attack equal to the destruction of the World Trade Centre.  
  
In the wake of its destruction, Bryan was in stupor of disbelief. Suddenly  
everything he had been working for during the past six months felt into doubt.  
He had utterly convinced that Black Serpent had links to the company, perhaps as  
an agent of chaos to destabilise selected regions in the world for commercial  
profit. With the attack upon the corporate head of the company the subsequent  
death of John Malcolm, it seemed Malcolm Industries was exonerated of any wrong  
doing in the eyes of Bryan’s superiors. It was an opinion that Bryan was unable  
to change, especially when what proof he had was scant to begin with.  
  
He had flown to New York following the destruction and stood before the pile of  
rubble in the middle of Manhattan, watching dispassionately as work crews took  
on the arduous task of clearing away the debris. He did not know how long he  
had stood there, trying to make sense of it and finding after hours, that he  
could not.  
  
Something did not feel right.  
  
There were too many questions about the calamity. The fact that other than a  
small portion of C4 detected when the investigators shifted through the rubble,  
there was no trace of any other explosive, certainly not in the amounts required  
to demolish a skyscraper the size of Monolith as locals called the building.  
Structural engineers examining the wreckage had equally baffling reports of  
their own. The type of fractures running through the wreckage seemed to  
indicate a seismic disturbance not an explosion. However, since a localised  
earthquake around one building was a virtual impossibility, it was decided that  
the terrorists had used some form of designer explosive not known to the  
authorities.  
  
If that inconsistency was difficult enough to swallow, so was the FBI’s main  
suspect; a man called Aaron Stone, an American psychiatrist who until that  
particular day had no prior record of any kind. Stone was a doctor at a New York  
hospital until he was fired a few days before. The hospital board had discovered  
that he had illegally liberated one of his patients. Stone’s history indicated  
no affiliation with any kind of terrorist group. If anything, he was the least  
likely candidate for blowing up a building. The FBI had decided to label him a  
lone gunman in the way Timothy McVeigh had been but everything they knew about  
the good doctor was academic because six weeks after the explosion, Stone and  
his patient had vanished and not been seen since.  
  
Bryan had made an attempt to find him but to no avail. Wherever Stone had gone  
to ground, it was clear he was not coming back.  
  
**********  
  
“Agent Miller,” a soft, feminine voice interrupted Bryan Miller’s thoughts as he  
sat outside his supervisor’s office, waiting for the man to see him.  
  
Bryan looked up and met the gaze of Alicia Perkins, the pretty secretary who  
kept a vigil outside the old man’s office. She offered him a little smile, one  
he had been familiar with ever since she took over the role from her  
predecessor. It was a smile of romantic interest that Bryan had sense enough to  
ignore. Even in MI6, office romances were not a good idea and he did not need  
another woman in his life who would tell him he was a bastard after six months.

”He’ll see you now,” she informed him dutifully when he looked her way, careful  
to keep eye contact with her instead of noticing the scandalously low cut blouse  
she was wearing beneath her smart, navy suit.  
  
“Thank you,” Bryan rose to his feet and made his way to the door, giving her no  
more attention that that.

In truth, he was not looking forward to this meeting because he had some idea  
how it was all going to play out. When he was told that Caldwell wanted to see  
him earlier today, he had mentally prepared himself for the worst. After all,  
he was perfectly aware with how many regulations he had broken in order to chase  
down what everyone was starting to call his obsession. Bryan wanted to disagree  
with them but in the last twenty minutes that he had been sitting here, waiting  
to see Section Supervisor Caldwell, Bryan had realised that his life was his job  
and for the last eighteen months, his job had been Malcolm Industries.  
  
It disturbed him even further to realise that without his job, there was little  
else in his life. Being in the game meant it was difficult to form  
relationships. After all, he was called to travel the world at a moment’s notice  
and keep his whereabouts a secret, and there was that annoying little thing  
about possibly getting killed on assignment, not exactly the ideal ground to  
establish permanent attachment. Most women he had been foolish enough to become  
attached to, worked out within six months that his job was his first love and  
everything else was filler.  
  
Section Supervisor Caldwell was old school.  
  
He had been old when Bryan was still a novice and seemed to never age, only grow  
balder as the years go by. There was a joke that his smooth skull could deflect  
signals from enemy surveillance equipment but no one dared to say it to  
Caldwell’s face, not unless they wanted to be posted to someplace hellish, like  
Antarctica or worse yet, Whitby. Bryan had a great deal of respect for Caldwell  
and knew that if he was in here, then it was for good reason. Caldwell trusted  
the people under his authority and only cracked the whip when he felt it was  
needed, unfortunately for Bryan.  
  
Upon entering Caldwell’s office, Bryan saw the man at his desk, perusing the  
files he had accumulated during his investigation of Malcolm Industries  
beginning with the initial report from his dead informant to Bryan’s most recent  
investigations into the heir of the Malcolm estate, David Saeran. Caldwell’s  
grim expression at Bryan’s entry into the room caused the field agent to stiffen  
involuntarily and reminded him of the days when he was sent to the headmaster’s  
office at school. Caldwell acknowledged his arrival with a quick glance from  
over the top edge of the file before gesturing at him to take seat.  
  
Bryan would prefer to endure this whole ordeal standing but supposed this was  
not the time to be difficult, particularly if he wanted to keep his job. He was  
starting to suspect that it might already be too late but permitted his pride to  
suffer a little if it meant he would be allowed to continue his investigation.  
Caldwell was a good man and a better friend. Even Bryan had to acknowledge that  
Caldwell had given him a good deal of latitude before reaching this point and  
was probably justified in what he was about to do.  
  
“Bryan,” Caldwell began, obviously deciding to skip the formalities and launch  
directly into the heart of the matter. “I thought we had an understanding that  
you were going to drop the investigation into Malcolm Industries.”  
  
“With all due respect Sir, you had an understanding that I didn’t share,” Bryan  
replied having reached the conclusion in the last few seconds that Caldwell had  
already made up his mind and if he had, little that Bryan said now would make  
any difference. Therefore, there seemed little point in hiding his feelings  
regarding the matter. “I think the company bears further investigation.”  
  
“Not according to your own files,” Caldwell retorted, dropping the file onto the  
desktop. The papers contain within it slid out of its confines across the  
polished oak surface. “All I see here is circumstantial evidence and hearsay,  
which I might add appears less credible since its central headquarters was  
reduced to a pile a rubble of rubble in the middle of Manhattan!”  
  
“Sir, we have no idea if the destruction of the Malcolm Building was motivated  
by terrorists. Don’t you find it odd that no one has stepped forward claiming  
responsibility? If Malcolm Industries is a front for the Black Serpent  
organization, then this could be a retaliatory response to some agenda that we  
are unaware of!” Bryan insisted with just as much determination.  
  
“You’re speculating Agent Miller!” Caldwell cried out in exasperation. “This is  
MI6, not some Fleet Street rag! You are not justified in chasing down your pet  
theories, especially when you have provided not one shred of real evidence that  
such an organization even exists. This phantom that you’ve been chasing has made  
you the laughing stock of the entire intelligence community and I will not have  
you using our resources to give validation to a rumour that makes British  
intelligence look like tabloid hunters!”  
  
The insult stung more than Bryan wanted to admit because he knew he had been the  
subject of some ridicule but until now, had not suspected the full measure of  
it. Did his entire department think him insane?  
  
“I know I’m right,” Bryan insisted, refusing to let Caldwell see that his words  
had struck home. “There is something there. Something that no one suspects and  
unless we pay close attention to it, we are going to wake up one day and find a  
disaster on our doorstep that will make the bombing at the World Trade Centre  
look like a walk in the park!”  
  
“Bloody hell Bryan!” Caldwell exclaimed loudly, standing up in his chair and  
leaning forward. “You’ve produced nothing that would indicate that and I see by  
your surveillance reports that you have been watching David Saeran as well?”  
  
Bryan sucked in his breath, trying to restrain his own temper before it got the  
better of him and forced him to say something that he would really regret.  
“David Saeran is John Malcolm’s Vice President and heir to the entire Malcolm  
fortune. Malcolm ran the company from across the Atlantic but Saeran controls  
the European division. The money that came through the dummy corporations to  
Gupta Singh for the attack on the Pakistani Embassy came in Deutsche marks. It  
is entirely possible that Malcolm knew nothing about Black Serpent and every  
possibility that Saeran is the one funding the organization!”  
  
“So now you don’t think that Malcolm is responsible, you think its Saeran?”  
Caldwell demanded in disbelief, his expression showing clearly that his patience  
with Bryan had finally reached its end.  
  
“Yes,” Bryan answered in resignation, realising at this moment that his battle  
to convince his superior was over. Caldwell thought he was obsessed and perhaps  
he was but Bryan was certain that he was right. There was something about  
Malcolm Industries that warranted caution. No one had heard of David Saeran  
until after the destruction of the Malcolm Building where he had been produced  
by the company’s board of directors as the new Chief Executive Officer and  
subsequent heir to the Malcolm fortune. The company PR people had claimed that  
Saeran had been Malcolm’s right hand man in Europe but almost nothing was known  
of the man.  
  
“Bryan,” Caldwell lowered himself into his leather chair, a sure sign to Bryan  
that he had come to a decision. “I think you need to take some time off. You’ve  
been on this investigation for too long and you’ve lost your objectivity.  
You’re a good man Bryan and I don’t want to lose you but you need to step away  
from all this while you can.”  
  
“I don’t need a rest,” Bryan insisted but suspected the decision was out of his  
hands. Caldwell was obdurate once he made up his mind. “I’m telling you there’s  
something here. I just need a little more time.”  
  
“Bryan,” Caldwell said firmly. “This isn’t a request. I’m ordering you to take  
leave. Don’t assume that I won't make this official if I have to."  
  
Bryan opened his mouth to protest but knew anything he said to Caldwell would  
only condemn him further in the eyes of his superior. The last thing he needed  
was for Caldwell to think that he was insubordinate as well as obsessive. Right  
now, the most important thing was to walk out of here with Caldwell suitably  
appeased. The rest he would figure out later. If he wanted to get to the bottom  
of things with Malcolm Industries, he would need the resources of MI6. As a  
wise man once said, it was best to play dead for the time being.  
  
“Alright," Bryan let out a heavy breath, feigning capitulation. "I'll take a  
break if that's what you want."  
  
"Its what you need," Caldwell insisted, relaxing a little now that it appeared  
Bryan was willing to listen to reason. "Take a month for yourself, go sit on a  
beach somewhere."  
  
"Can you possibly imagine me at a beach?" Bryan gave him a look, shuddering at  
the thought even if he was operating under the illusion that he had accepted  
Caldwell’s advice.  
  
"Not really," Caldwell cracked a little smile, "as long as I don't imagine you  
here."  
  
"I don't suppose there's any way I can get you to change your mind?" Bryan  
pressed once more, hoping that their long standing friendship might convince  
Caldwell that he had not gone off the deep end as so many agents tended to do in  
this line of work.  
  
"Not unless you want to work elsewhere," the older man said with flint in his  
eyes. Bryan knew Caldwell enough to realise that he would be true to his word if  
Bryan did not obey him on this matter.  
  
“Point taken,” Bryan replied with a sigh of resignation. “I will take a break.”  
  
“Good,” Caldwell nodded in approval. “I’ll see you in month and we can talk  
about a new assignment.”  
  
Bryan hid the frown that almost crossed his face at the prospect of abandoning  
his labours for the past eighteen months. While Bryan respected Caldwell and his  
hard-nosed demeanour, the MI6 agent wished his superior were not so obtuse.  
Bryan was absolutely certain that his suspicions regarding Malcolm Industries  
were not unfounded, even if he could not prove it to Caldwell to any satisfying  
degree. Unfortunately, his enforced holiday meant that he had only a month left  
to get to the bottom of things or he would be taken off the case permanently.  
  
Hopefully, this would work to his advantage. What he did during his holiday was  
nobody's business but his own. If he chose to spend that time continuing his  
investigation discreetly, he was within his rights. Of course, it would be  
preferable if it did not get back to Caldwell what he was doing because  
technically speaking, that could be construed as disobeying direct orders.  
Fortunately, Bryan was more than accustomed to skirting the edge of trouble.  
  
It was a skill that came with the job.  
  
*************  
The black Mercedes rolled silently up the darkened street of Huntington Road,  
Riverside shortly after midnight. Its engines rumbled low as it crept along the  
kerb and came to a halt in front of a crimson post box.  
  
The neighbourhood was quiet one and at this hour, most of its inhabitants were  
safely tucked in bed. It was a cold night that ensured that everyone was driven  
to either take refuge under the covers or in front of equally warm fires. The  
ocean breeze had carried the fog in and Cardiff had a decidedly vague look about  
it this evening. The fog carried with it the faint stench of the sea, though not  
many noticed it at this hour. Cardiff had a decidedly country atmosphere,  
therefore folk tended to rise early and go to bed in the same manner.  
  
The driver had chosen his waiting place well. There was no moon tonight,  
certainly none that could be seen through the heavy clouds overhead. The  
streetlight provided some illumination but against the fog, the glow was slight.  
The car waited in the spaces between the radiance of light and watched the house  
in the corner that was shrouded in darkness. He had been waiting there for  
several days now, waiting for word to come that this was the one they had been  
searching for so long.  
  
Six years they had searched the globe, travelled far across the world looking  
for the one who had brought the ruin of them all, thirsting for vengeance. Six  
years of disappointments, of eliminated possibilities, of finally nearing the  
end of the list, knowing that if the prey was not here, they would have to  
continue searching in more obscure places. That would mean a delay that would  
anger the one who was wronged the most.  
  
The potential had no idea regarding the presence of the black cars that had  
taken up vigil over its home the past week. The driver wondered if the prey felt  
the net closing in, whether insight or premonition warned of the danger that was  
tightening the noose slowly but surely. Fortunately, it appeared that the  
occupants of the house were oblivious to everything and completely unaware that  
time was running out for them.  
  
Perhaps it would not be tomorrow or even the day after, but time was indeed  
dwindling for the occupants of the house with the red roof and the gnome  
ornaments in the front garden. They had been waiting too long for this moment.  
Before the inevitable revenge however, there would be a meeting.  
  
Finally, after a hundred thousand years, they would face each other.  
  
************  
  
  
Fred could not sleep.  
  
She had waited until mummy had turned of the lights and gone to bed before she  
dared to slip out of the covers. Padding across the floor in her bare feet  
because it made the less noise, Fred crept to the windowsill and looked past the  
glass into the street below. It took a moment for her to find them in the fog  
but she had no doubt they were there. They had been there the night before and  
the night before that and how much father beyond those two days, Fred did not  
know. She only noticed them last night when she had another one of her terrible  
nightmares. She had felt them very strongly and had awakened screaming once  
more, frightening mummy to no end and driving daddy to distraction.  
  
After they had put her back to sleep, Fred had ventured out of bed and went to  
her window, taking care to ensure she was not seen and sure enough, her worst  
fears were confirmed. They were there in the darkness, waiting for her. All her  
life, she knew they were searching for her and until now, had prayed that it was  
a terrible dream and a mistake. But when she saw those dark cars, with their  
even darker windows that no one could see through, she knew that they had found  
her. She thought maybe she could run away but she did not know how. She knew  
that if she stayed, mummy and daddy might get hurt but she knew of no way to  
slip from under their notice without causing more harm to her parents.  
  
So she stayed and watched them, wondering how long it would be before he  
followed.  
  
Before she saw him face to face at last.  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter Two: Journeys in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

When he had first arrived in Valinor, Aaron had never believed he would become so attached to the place. However, there was real sorrow in him when he left the enchanted domain of the elves and the Valar, bound for home and an uncertain destiny. While there was a part of him that was eager to return to civilisation, even under such grim circumstances, there was another part that had become accustomed to his peaceful life in Valinor. 

  


Nevertheless, Aaron was not about to sit idly by when it appeared that the continued existence of the world that him gave life was under threat by some unknown peril. Even if he had intended to quit the modern world permanently for his existence in Valinor, Aaron could not turn away from his former home in its time of need. If saving one world was the price for returning to the other, then so be it. Aaron was not going to sacrifice one for the other. 

  


For Eve McCaughley, once Arwen Evenstar, it was not the place that was so difficult to leave behind but rather the people. In the last year, she had found a family in Valinor. Even though she still mourned the parents and the brother she had lost before coming to these fair shores, Eve had to concede that in a pervious life, she was daughter to Elrond and Celebrian of Imlardis, sister to Elladan and Elrohir. She could no more deny this any more than she could deny that she was once wife to Aragorn Elessar, now a New York psychiatrist she had willingly joined in exile. 

  


Elrond had not wanted her to leave. The elven lord was afraid that he and his wife would lose their precious daughter again, even if she were wearing the skin of a mortal. If anything had the power to move the usually tough as nails policewoman, it was their concern for her. However, she was too much their daughter in spirit to stay behind when the man she loved was embarking upon a dangerous quest. Her life before Valinor had been dedicated to protecting the weak so she incapable of turning away when she was so needed. Thus when it came time to depart the Undying Lands, Eve found herself just as torn as Aaron, even more so because she was leaving behind _family_.

  


For Eve who had seen the absolute worst in human ugliness during her career as a detective with the New York Police Department, investigating homicides no less, Valinor had refreshed her spirit in a way she never dreamed possible. The cynic she had been was eroded away by being here among people who did not take life for granted and cherished every moment of it as something precious and worthy of cultivation. 

  


Even Aaron had noticed that she was less suspicious and her natural aggression seemed to give ay under the affection of the people around her. While Aaron admired Eve’s ability to take care of herself, he sensed that it was partly due to the competition of being in a man’s world. There was an old saying that for a woman to be considered as half as good as a man it was necessary for her to do twice as well. Aaron could only imagine how that would have applied to Eve as a member of the NYPD and was grateful that in Valinor she had no need to prove herself. 

  


In Valinor she had been greatly loved, not merely by her family but by Ariel, Legolas’ wife. As the first woman other than her immediate family that Eve had gotten to know upon her arrival, the two had become fast friends and remained close throughout the year. Despite being a very proper elven wife, Ariel had a streak of mischief that fitted very well with Eve’s own dry humour. Aaron could not even begin to say how disconcerting it was to walk in on the two women on board the _Anemone_ and find them in front of the television set watching videos. 

  


Aaron was certain that there was something deeply sacrilegious about watching ‘Thelma and Louise’ in Valinor.

  


As anticipated, when it was time to leave, Legolas insisted on accompanying them. Aaron’s best efforts to convince the elf that perhaps it was safer for him to remain behind was met with annoyance as well as complete ignorance. Legolas stated firmly that Aaron would only get himself killed if he was not there to prevent it and after what had happened with John Malcolm, the human could not dispute the elf’s words. Legolas was not only very adept at keeping himself alive during a battle, but equally capable of ensuring his comrades in arms remained the same way. In truth, Aaron was rather glad that Legolas was coming with him. He was so accustomed to having the elf by his side that it was impossible to imagine that he had ever known a time when Legolas was not apart of his life and was pleased to know that great friendships, like great loves, transcended time. 

  


Elladan and Elrohir had wanted to accompany them on their return journey but Gandalf had insisted that they remain, declaring that their place was at their parent’s side during the time that their sister was away. Aaron suspected that this was merely an excuse to lessen the burden on Elrond and Celebrian if they should fail in what they intend to do. To lose one child was terrible enough, but to lose all three was more than anyone should have to bear, mortal or elf. While Gandalf was not at all fatalistic about their chances, Aaron was grateful for his compassion regarding the feelings of Elrond and Celebrian whom Aaron had come to care for as much as Eve.

  


Ariel had wanted to accompany her husband across the sea but even Eve discouraged the idea because the nature of the threat they faced and were required to stop was too great to risk any more lives than necessary. Legolas was grateful for Eve’s support when he attempted to convince Ariel of this. His wife was far younger than he and the hurt of losing her once, when she had been Melia was burned into his memory, so much so that he could never bear to have her in a position where her existence might be in jeopardy. 

  


Ariel was bitter about being left behind again but understood this secret fear her husband harboured for as long as they been together. It had been revealed to her by the elf friend Gimli, the only dwarf to ever set foot on Valinor. Before he died, Gimli had told Ariel about Melia, the woman Legolas believed her to be. They had not been wed yet although it was clear to all that they loved each other by then. However, this news had almost halted their betrothal because Ariel had no wish to be a replacement for someone else, even if Legolas was convinced that she was in possession of Melia’s soul. It had taken Legolas a long time to win her hand and while she believed he saw her as a person in her own right, she indulged him his need to protect her from harm.

  


Galadriel and Celeborn seeing the worry of their daughter Celebrian regarding Eve’s departure, sent Haldir to accompany the travellers on their quest. Haldir was more than eager to see the new lands and he was a capable warrior in any situation. Although Gandalf had wanted to keep the company small, he understood the lady’s desire and agreed to the elf’s presence when it came time to leave. 

  


Cirdan and his shipwrights had set to work on the _Anemone_ before their departure, making the craft a fitting vassal to take them across the sea. Although they altered little in the structure of the ship, there were certain additions that were unmistakably elven and enough had been added to the original to ensure that when the _Anemone_ returned to Valinor, it would do so without requiring the Valar to lift the veil between worlds. 

  


Finally the _Anemone_ departed Valinor, bound for the new world and the darkness that threatened to consume Arda completely if it was not stopped. Fortunately, the Valar had some sense of where the evil was strongest and so the vessel’s course was set not towards the Americas but to what Gandalf called the Old World. At first Aaron thought he was referring to Europe but during their voyage, learnt that the Old World was what the Istar called the lands that were once Middle earth. 

  


They would arrive in what used to be by Gandalf’s reckoning, the lands of Eriador and by Aaron’s reckoning, Great Britain.

  


Thus at the same time that Bryan Miller was gambling his future in MI6 on a desperate bid to learn the truth about Malcolm Industries, the _Anemone_ had pierced the curtain between dimensions and was making good time across the North Atlantic.

  


************

  


Despite the circumstances of their return to civilisation, neither Aaron nor Eve could deny that they were in some small way, excited by the prospect of returning to the world of their birth, if only for awhile. Both understood that if they were to succeed in ending the threat of the darkness that had been the source of that terrible vision in Galadriel’s mirror, their return to Valinor would be permanent. This would be their last excursion to the modern world. 

  


The situation had demanded their presence in this quest but the Valar had shut their doors to the world a long time ago and according to Gandalf, Iluvutar’s plan for the race of men was unknown, even to them. The Valar could give neither Aaron nor Eve immortality because the fate of men was not in their hands and the design of an even greater power. What could be given was a long and happy life in Valinor but to accept it in its entirety meant Eve and Aaron had to turn their backs on everything they had known before.

  


It was both an easy and yet painful choice to make.

  


As the _Anemone_ sailed through the dark waters of the North Atlantic, drawing closer towards the northern coast of Scotland, Aaron found Eve alone on the deck, watching the familiar stars overhead while being lashed by the strong winds. The air was heavy with salt and cold enough for him to be very grateful that he had opted to join her wearing a warm coat. She on the other hand was wearing one of the heavy cloaks provided by Celebrian and as she stood with the sea behind her, the wind blowing her dark hair across the rosy bloom of her cheeks, Aaron thought she never seemed more elvish than at that moment. 

  


"Hey," he said sliding his arms around her waist as they drew to each other’s warmth in the cold night air. "Are you alright? You seem pretty far away."

  


"I’m fine," she smiled, savouring the touch of him but unable to shake the uneasiness from her posture. Unfortunately, Aaron knew her well enough now to see through her masks, a trait she sometimes wished he did not have. Eve, who was by nature a very private person found his ability to see straight through her rather disconcerting, although there were moments when it felt very good to have someone know her so well and love her for all the things that she was, without fear or recrimination. 

  


"You don’t look fine," he pointed out, illustrating this point perfectly. "You forget what I used to do for a living. Come on," he said lowering his eyes to hers, "tell the doctor what is on your mind." He asked again in his best German accent.

  


"Oh please, not the Sigmund Freud impersonation," she winced before laughing a little. "I knew there was a reason I hate shrinks."

  


"Actually I was doing Schwarzeneggar," he threw her mischievous wink, "but Freud does fit. So tell me what’s wrong or I’ll be forced to use do some other lousy impersonation."

  


"How about impersonating a same person," she deadpanned.

  


"Oh that’s cold," he returned in mock hurt. ‘The maiden doth wound me mortally."

  


"Now you sound like Leggy," Eve replied wondering how a man with such a zany sense of humour had ever been a psychiatrist and such a good one at that. She supposed that was why she loved Aaron so much, other than the fact that fate had decreed they were destined to be together through several life times. In this life anyway, it was because he always managed to surprise her and bring a smile to her face no matter what the situation. His ability to take things in stride, no matter how strange they were, was one of the reasons why he had taken to Valinor as well as he did and also had aided her own transition by way of his support.

  


"Don’t let him hear you call him that," Aaron advised. "The guy can pin a gnat with an arrow from half a mile away. I’m pretty sure he’ll get you if he hears you calling him _that_ nickname."

  


"Who knew elves could be so touchy?" Eve shrugged remembering the expression on Legolas’ face the first time she had use that abbreviation of his name. It was also the first time Eve was made aware of the fact that elves could curse and quite colourfully when the mood took them.

  


"Not me," Aaron replied, "I haven’t seen him that ticked off since that goon in New York called him pretty."

  


Eve laughed, recalling Legolas’ sensitivity on that subject before her tone became sombre as she returned to what was weighing heavily on her thoughts since they had left Valinor behind. "I’m a little worried about what’s going to happen when we get back to civilisation, Doc."

  


"You mean because of this quest?" Aaron asked with likeminded seriousness, now that she was getting to the heart of what was bothering her.

  


"No, I mean with you and what we left behind in New York," she answered grimly. "You were the only suspect they had for the destruction of the Malcolm Building and you disappeared. That’s a red flag to every law enforcement agency in the world. Even if they don’t have any proof you were responsible for what happened, they’ll want to question you at the very least. Aaron, it might have been better if you had stayed behind."

  


"And let you come out of here on your own?" Aaron balked at the suggestion even though he was well aware of how vulnerable he was. "No way in hell was I letting you face what I saw in Galadriel’s mirror alone. The whole world is in danger and I won’t sit by and do nothing because I’m afraid of what _might_ happen to me. Besides, Gandalf needs us both; he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t. Hell, the Valar weren’t happy about having either of us leave, but they allowed it because of what’s going on. If what I saw in that mirror is a nuclear threat then you and I are the only ones who know our way around enough to help him stop it. I know how much trouble I am in Eve, but I was not going to sit this one out when so much is at stake. Whatever’s waiting for me out there, I’ll face it when the time comes."

  


Eve was smiling at him, her eyes radiant with admiration and love for him as he made his courageous speech. "We’ll face it together," she declared, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tighter. 

  


"Yeah," Aaron replied happily, delighting in how good it felt to have her love him. It gave him courage enough to bring up a subject he had been idling with for the past few months. "You know Eve, we should think about getting engaged when this is all over."

  


Her eyes widened, "this is a proposal?" 

  


"You want me to get on my knees?" He looked at her with a smile, "the deck’s wet but I’ll do it."

  


"After a year in Valinor, have you learnt nothing about romance?" Eve gave him a look of sarcasm. 

  


"Well I didn’t think you went in for that kind of thing…..," Aaron returned and realised immediately that despite being a psychiatrist, he had picked the absolute worst thing to say to her.

  


"What you don’t think I’d appreciate romance?" She asked apparently hurt and took on the expression of a wounded bird but her posture and the hands on her hips were declaration of war.

  


"No that’s not what I mean…" Aaron started to stammer, deciding he would have to do some serious back pedalling if he wanted to escape her wrath. In desperation, he blurted out the first thing to come into his mind since he had made a mess of his proposal of marriage. "Jesus, Eve, do you want to get married or not?" .

  


"Yes!" Eve barked back, highly amused by his efforts to salvage the situation. She really did enjoy toying with him. He may be a brilliant psychiatrist but like all men, suffered the affliction of not having the slightest inkling on how a woman’s mind worked.

  


"Well that was about as easy as having a tooth pulled…" he rolled his eyes in resignation realising that she was behaving this way in order to amuse herself at his expense.

  


"And the charm just keeps coming," Eve laughed, kissing him lightly on the lips to indicate that all was forgiven.

  


"I love you know," Aaron grinned at her, "despite the fact that you’re a pain in the ass."

  


  
  
"You’re lucky I don’t throw you overboard for a lousy proposal like that," she replied. "Still, if we survive this and we get back to Valinor, I think Elrond will be thrilled. I don’t think modern relationships really sit well with him. Every time we’re alone together I was sure he was going to pop a vein. He keeps saying that it’s not proper for young maiden to be cavorting with a man who is not her husband."

  


Aaron was still trying to get accustomed to the whole notion of Eve being a proper maiden. "Its difficult to see you as a proper maiden when you can wipe the floor with me."

  


"Don’t you forget it either," she replied and fell into silence as they watched the stars above them in the wake of their infant pledge to share their lives together

  


***************

  


While Aaron and Eve were enjoying their sojourn on the deck of the _Anemone_ , Gandalf was wondering whether it had been entirely wise to allow Haldir to accompany them on their quest to the new world. It was not that the elf was not capable of facing the alien environment they would soon find themselves, far from it as a matter of fact. Haldir had proved his worth repeatedly through the ages as a formidable warrior and an elf that could be relied upon to accomplish any task set before him. It was just that whenever they were in close proximity, Haldir and Legolas simply brought out the worst in each other. 

  


It was not that they disliked one another but were rather two different personalities that always seemed to react to each other like the tide colliding against the rocks. They were polar opposites in almost everything and while they could forget these differences when the situation demanded it, for the rest of the time being in their company bordered on tiresome and down right exasperating. It did not aid matters much that they were trapped on a ship with many days left to their voyage and the patience of a soul as wizened as Gandalf’s was starting to think the only way to cease their endless bickering was to throw them both overboard.

  


"You will damage it," Legolas grumbled as he saw Haldir with the small, squarish box used to operate the device Aaron called the television set.

  


"I will not," Haldir returned with annoyance as he proceeded to press every button on the device in quick succession, sending a flurry of images flashing across the television screen. 

  


Since they had emerged from the barrier that concealed Valinor from the rest of the modern world, the set was once again able to receive television signals. The closer they came to civilisation, the greater the intensity of the signals and soon they were receiving normal television programming from whatever station they were close enough to receive. For Aaron, this had been particularly useful in finding out the current state of world events. For Gandalf, it had given Haldir and Legolas reason to argue about who watched what, which translated into a constant battle as to who would get control of the remote. 

  


At the moment, it appeared Haldir was winning.

  


"You are not meant to do that," Legolas insisted. "You are supposed to choose one."

  


"I find that if you push the button fast enough, you can see many things at once," Haldir returned with a smirk, mostly because what he knew what he was doing was irritating Legolas to no end. The former Prince of Mirkwood kept such tight rein of his emotions that Haldir enjoyed the opportunity to beset that remarkable composure with some well needed strife. Despite their bickering, Haldir enjoyed Legolas’ company for that very reason. Annoying Legolas kept Haldir’s wits sharp and by the same token, kept the elven prince from taking himself too seriously, which he often did. 

  


"I do not want to see many things at once," Legolas replied, unaware that in the corner of the room, there was an Istar whose patience was dwindling as rapidly as the weed he was puffing away in his pipe. "I wish to see if we can find the adventure of Xena, the warrior princess."

  


Haldir looked at him, "what is she the princess of?" 

  


"It does not really say," Legolas answered seriously, "but she battles remarkable beasts with weapons that are most interesting. When I was in this world before, Elladan, Elrohir and I were privy to many of her legends."

  


"I see," Haldir mused to himself, thinking it highly improper for a princess of any realm to be running about battling dangerous creatures. He certainly could not imagine the Evenstar conducting herself in such a fashion during her day. Nevertheless, he pondered the notion briefly before resuming his operation of seeing as much as he could on the set all at once.

  


Legolas could stand it no more, seeing the images flashing before him and finally reached over to Haldir so that he could retrieve the device. "I think it is about time that I had a turn."

  


"I am not finished with it," Haldir returned, keeping it beyond his reach and forcing Legolas to make a more strenuous effort to take it from it. 

  


Gandalf watched in growing disgust as the elves, a hundred thousand years each, began squabbling over the device like a two small boys arguing over a toy.

  


"All right that will quite enough from the both of you," Gandalf stormed over from his chair and liberated the remote from Haldir. "You are the Eldar. You are meant to comport yourself with dignity, not behave in this childish manner! Since it is clear that neither of you can be expected to act responsibly, _I_ shall take the device."

  


With that, he liberated the remote from Haldir and continued to berate them, while waving the device in their faces to extenuate his point. 

  


It was at this moment that Eve and Aaron returned to the room. Both were silent as they surveyed the scene, however, it was Eve who finally deigned to speak.

  


"Oh look, our babies have finally become men," she replied sarcastically to no one in particular, with an expression on her face that was not at all surprised by what she was seeing, "they’re fighting over the remote."

  


  


***************

  


Following the destruction of the Malcolm Building in New York, Malcolm Industries had understandingly decided to remove the base of its operations from the United States to a new location across the Atlantic. Although the company had branches scattered throughout the globe, until destruction of its central hub, they had been peopled with underlings, not the corporate hierarchy. When the announcement had been made that John Malcolm’s heir, the then unknown David Saeran was also the new president of the company, it had been followed by Saeran’s declaration that the new corporate head quarters of his benefactor’s company would be in London. 

  


It had taken time for Bryan to find any information on David Saeran other than what the company propaganda machine was churning out so readily to any of the Fleet Street rags and tabloid papers. According to those populist sources, Saeran was a blood relation of the Malcolm aristocracy, albeit it a rather obscure line. There had been some elaborate details of ancestry in relation to whose brother and whose sister was married to whom but it in the end, it came to the same conclusion; Saeron was the legitimate heir to Malcolm Industries and the Malcolm fortune in the event John Malcolm had no progeny of his own. If the blood ties were not enough then Malcolm’s will solidified Saeran’s position irrefutably.

  


Bryan’s own investigation had produced some information beyond what was made public, but he knew it was not enough to give him any real understanding of what Saeran was about. Until his promotion to CEO of the company, Saeran had been listed on the company’s annual reports as vice president although he did not occupy the role in any conventional sense. Irish by birth, Saeran had spent his youth in England and was educated at Oxford. It was only after Malcolm brought him into the company in his twenties, did his globetrotting career begin. By the looks of it, he was Malcolm’s chief trouble-shooter, travelling across the planet and ensuring that Malcolm Industries’ interests were being met. The PR people had him likened to a Richard Branson type. Saeran was young, accessible and unlike his predecessor, highly visible. His dynamism according to some business magazines was the fresh blood the conglomerate needed to expand its interests into the 21st century. 

  


Just looking at him made Byran nervous.

  


Every cover that Saeran seemed to grace lately had the image of a man approaching his forties with a winning smile, rakish good looks and sunburnt blond hair. He was not much younger than Bryan and appeared to have the world at his feet. Byran wondered if his dislike stemmed a little from jealousy at all this man had accomplished in his life while Bryan’s own existence resembled an approaching train wreck he could not at all avoid. There were even moments when Bryan considered that perhaps it was jealousy that motivated him to the belief that Saeran was behind Black Serpent.

  


He shook the thought out of his head. If jealousy were the case, then _Viggo Mortenson_ would be a marked man by now. 

  


After being told rather firmly by Caldwell to take a holiday, Bryan had left MI6 and returned to his flat in London, where he considered how he would use his month to bring closure to his investigation. Some how he had to get a break in the case or he was going to lose control of it completely. It said something about how convinced he was about the company’s complicity when he measured the consequences of his failure by the lives that would be lost rather than his own career. As jaded as he was, Bryan was still a patriot who believed that he what he did for a living served a greater purpose. It was dirty job he was doing, but it ensured that decent people were able to go about their everyday lives without fear and with their liberties intact.

  


Thus when he learnt that David Saeran had returned to London, Bryan knew that his best hope would be to place the president of Malcolm Industries under tight surveillance until Saeran led him to the evidence he need. Bryan was utterly sure that Saeran was responsible for Black Serpent and if not, knew something about it. He was certain because he had no other lead left to follow. His career was riding on what he would do in the next four weeks. If he were going to jeopardize it, at least he would do so for more than just circumstantial evidence and a hunch. 

  


Packing everything he would need so that he could begin the round the clock surveillance on the sprawling estate in Windsor that David Saeran now called home, Bryan had a specific plan of attack. Helping himself to quite a bit in the MI6 surveillance department before he had left for his supposed ‘vacation’, Bryan had every intention of infiltrating David Saeran’s life and learning his secrets. How he would explain it to Caldwell would come _after_ he had found what he needed in evidence to prove Saeran’s complicity in the Black Serpent organization.

  


Driving down to the verdant estates sprawled across Windsor where only the very wealthy and the royals could afford to call home, Bryan knew how to blend in even in such lofty surroundings. The best way was to go about unnoticed by the rich was impersonate someone who was not. The upper classes tended to notice their equals and what they considered the serving classes were relegated to a kind of oblivion beneath their notice. For Bryan, this class division served him well because it allowed him to keep watch on Saeran’s home whilst he was in England. 

  


In fact when Saeran had left the estate for London a few days after Bryan began his surveillance, the MI6 agent took the opportunity to enter the mansion so that he could install a few listening devices to aid in his investigation. He had entered the premises in the dead of night, navigating through the maze of security measures Saeran had in place with great care. For a man who deemed himself accessible to all, Saeran’s home was more fortified than Downing Street, with high security cameras, alarms that were triggers by micro density changes in the atmosphere, laser grids and even motion detectors. All of it served to convince Bryan that Saeran was a man with something to hide. 

  


Bryan installed a number of bugs, ensuring that their hiding place would not be suspect until a regular surveillance sweep was conducted, a procedure he was certain Saeran undertook frequently. No man fortified his home with such care without taking that extra precaution. However, Bryan had timed his incursion a day or so after Saeran’s security people had conducted the procedure, to ensure that he would have a good number of days gleaning useful information before the bugs were finally discovered. Hopefully that would give him enough for further leads and he could abandon the surveillance for something more tangible. 

  


If Caldwell learn what he was doing, Bryan could have found more than his job in danger. MI6 was not allowed to operate within the country. MI6’s sister agency, MI5 and its affiliate, the Special Branch of Scotland Yard, dealt with affairs effecting the internal security of the nation. What Bryan was doing broke all the rules and was very much against the law. All these factors laid a heavy burden upon the agent when he conducted his surveillance, listening to inconsequential gossip for most part. Saeran’s return to his estate did not alter this very much and most of what Bryan was overhearing, was incidental chatter that had to do with the running of Malcolm Industries, little else.

  


After almost a week of listening, Bryan was starting to consider that perhaps Saeran was too crafty to discuss anything relating to Black Serpent or his illegal activities, when his estate was staffed with so many that could unwittingly overhear him. Bryan began to consider what he would do next when a chance telephone call changed his mind dramatically. 

  


It came through Saeran’s private cell phone whose frequency Bryan had been monitoring as soon as he discovered what it was. Bryan had been driven to this further invasion of privacy when he had been unable to glean any information from Saeran’s regular phone lines and this had been a measure borne out of desperation as well as expediency.

  


The caller on the other end of the phone spoke in a bare hiss. His voice, if it could be called that was almost a whisper and within the confines of the van that Bryan had been conducting his illegal surveillance, the agent shuddered a little at the sound of it. Hearing it made Bryan’s heart pound a little and his chest contracted with uneasiness. The voice chilled him to the bone. 

  


"Is it him?" Saeran’s cool, measured voice had asked. 

  


"YESSSSS...." came the answer.

  


"Good," Saeran seemed pleased, "wait until it is dark and then bring him here. I want him alive."

  


"YESSSSS," the unnamed voice on the end of the line answered in that same unearthly voice. 

  


"Kill everyone else. Fail me in this and you will know my wrath."

  


Wit that the call ended with no more being said. Bryan straightened within the confines of the darkened van, excited by the words Saeran had spoken because now he finally had proof that the man was dealing in something more than corporate finance. By his own words, Saeran had ordered someone’s death and Bryan had the proof of it on tape. However, even as success was finally within his reach, Bryan’s thoughts sobered to the kidnapping that Saeran had ordered, not to mention the death warrant for those who might be in proximity to witness it. 

  


He followed the trace on the call and found that it had originated from Cardiff, in the Riverside district to be exact. Unfortunately, he was unable to be more exact then that which concerned him greatly. If he turned this over to MI5 where it ought to rightly go, they would ask how he had come by this information and his revelation might give them doubts as to whether or not they should proceed. While the inevitable bureaucratic squabbling took place as to whether or not they should act on the information, since it was acquired by an agent conducting an illegal surveillance, Saeran’s men would reach their targets and innocent people would die.

  


He had to do this himself. 

  


Bryan had enough to burden his conscience in regards to what he had done for queen and country during his career but under those circumstances, he was under orders as any soldier might have been. However, if he did nothing in this instance, it would be on no one’s head but his own. While he had shed blood in the service of England, he could not simply stand by when innocent civilians were about to be murdered, not under any circumstances. There was still enough of him that belonged to the human race that would not permit him to let it happen. 

  


Driving the van immediately to the garage he had rented during his time in the area, Bryan exchanged the dark van for his own vehicle, a 1973 jaguar sedan in tasteful British racing green. As an agent in the field, the car had come equipped with company plates as well as a boot full of optional extras which was not included in the original sale or listed in the owner’s manual. Bryan knew he had little time. Saeran’s agents was instructed to wait until dark, so Bryan had possibly a matter of hours to reach Cardiff and find the proposed victims in this whole affair before it was too late.

  


It was still daylight when he left Windsor and headed towards Cardiff, taking the west road to Cleveden where he would cross Mouth of the Servern on the ferry. He wished he had a better idea of time but could not expect Saeran to make it too easy for him since the man was unaware that he was listening. Still, he had enough information to save him some valuable time when he arrived at Riverside and the sensibility of waiting until dark to attempt the kidnapping gave him valuable time. 

  


It was still a few hours to dusk and Bryan intended to make every second count. 

  


***********

  


Fred did not want to go to school today.

  


She told mummy she was sick and though she showed no signs of running a fever or impending cold, fortunately mummy had believed her because she was not a child prone to lying about such things. Daddy had gone off to work, despite Fred’s entreaties for him to stay at home and watch cartoons with her. He had almost relented, she thought because the request was not one she made often, but eventually the annoying sense of adult responsibility told him to refuse her and go to work as planned. Fred was disappointed and spent the rest of the morning pouting inside, even though she was pleased that mummy at least had decided not to go to the markets today.

  


Instead she spent a wonderful day, following her mother around the house, keeping her in close sights as mummy did the washing and the housekeeping. Delighting in all the little mundane tasks that personified her mother in Fred’s young mind, from the making of the beds to preparing her lunch. All this little girl committed to memory like something that needed treasuring. She watched the day go by in sadness, knowing that it was all coming to and end because the feeling of doom that had plagued her all her life had taken on a life of its own in the past few days. 

  


The black cars with their black windows had become more frequent outside her street in the dead of night. They did not think they were seen and to everyone else, they continued to remain anonymous to all. Except to Fred. She saw them and she knew that the net around her safe existence was tightening. This morning, she was struck by the feeling that it would be the last time she awoke in her bed. She looked at the sky blue walls covered in pictures of Thomas the Tank Engine, the Powerpuff Girls and even the odd Harry Potter. She looked at her creme desk covered with crayons and coloring pens scattered about and at the shelves where her favorite toys and books were kept with this knowledge that her time in this room was almost done.

  


When her father came that evening, he had put her on his lap and turned on the television so that they could watch cartoons together. He explained to her why he could not stay with her earlier in the day and Fred accepted it because she was grateful that he was here with her now. They watched television together and then had a lovely dinner, where there were smiles and laughter around the table. Fred watched her mother and father who were good parents considering that she had been a most perplexing child. She had given them reason to worry and yet they had never been unkind or cross. No matter how strangely she behaved, to them she was their daughter and nothing else mattered.

  


She branded her memory with everything about her mother, from her long golden hair to her bright smile and the faint hint of lilac that remained after she had left the room. For the rest of her life, Fred would always associate the flower with her mother and the memory would bring tears to her eyes. Just as she would associate rough corduroy and Saturday morning cartoons with her father. When it was time to go to bed, Fred had returned to her bedroom, emerging from beneath the covers once the light had been turned off. Stealing furtively across the floor towards the window, she peered through the curtains swaying back and forth in the breeze to the street and saw them waiting in the shadows.

  


There were more of them now. Before there had been only one dark, black car with the tinted windows parked in the dead of night watching her house, but now she spied another. They were parked on either side of the street, like dark heralds awaiting the arrival of their terrible master. Fred could not sense that _he_ was there but she felt the darkness of his minions and knew that the sinister feeling of dread growing in her heart was because they were no longer contented to watch. Tonight, she would see them in the flesh for the first time. 

  


She had dreamed of them but until this morning, had not remembered.

  


Yet as she saw them across the street, she knew that they had always been chasing her in one form or another. They preceded the coming of her nemesis, the one that had used her dreams to see into her life, the one who made it so hard to close her eyes or trust sleep. She thought that perhaps she should warn her parents, to reveal the presence of the dark men who had been stalking them for many days now. However, she feared that she would not be believed or worse yet, her parents might believe her and do something foolish like confronting them.

  


Fred watched them until the moon hung high in the night sky and the rest of the neighborhood was drowned in slumber. Lights diminished across the street as people went to bed and forgot the world outside for a time. The noises emanating from the downstairs of her own house fell into this stasis and Fred knew that when it was quiet, they would come. She watched by the window as the cars continued their vigil, the smooth finish of their paint looking as black as infinity as the hour of their awakening approached. 

  


  
  
When the lights of her parent’s room dimmed beneath the crack of her door, she knew that they would at last come. Her blue eyes shifted immediately to the cars and saw the doors opening on both vehicles. Fred held her breath, grabbing her Eeyore doll tighter in her grip as she decided what she would do. Her eyes widened as she saw them move towards the front gate, tall, men wearing black suits, their faces hidden beneath wide brimmed hats. They were very pale all of them and it was difficult to see their faces because the hats partially covered their features and when it did not, Fred saw that they were all wearing sunglasses.

  


She counted three emerging from one car and they moved like a rolling fog, silently progressing up the pavement towards the front gate. From the other car, she saw two more men appear in the darkness but they seemed to linger outside of the house. Fred knew that her time had run out when she saw them pushing open the gate and was finally spurred into moving. Quickly, she ran out of her room, her small feet making loud noises against the hardwood floor. Bursting into her parent’s room, the noise of her running feet had already begun to stir them out of their slumber.

  


"Mummy, daddy wake up!" She cried out frantically.

  


Already alerted somewhat by the sound of pounding footsteps, her parents sat up almost immediately in their beds, having grown accustomed to being awakened suddenly since the onset of her nightmares. It was her mother Geraldine who managed a coherent response first.

  


"Fred darling what is it?" She asked wiping the sleep out of her eyes and staring at her panic stricken child.

  


"We have to go mummy, they’re coming!" Fred declared staring out the window even though she could not see them from her present position next to her parent’s bed.

  


  
  
"Who’s coming?" Her father muttered through a yawn.

  


"The bad men!" She returned sharply. "They’re outside!"

  


Both parents exchanged a weary expression of disbelief, certain that the root of this declaration was from another one of their child’s terrifying nightmares. Her mother sat upright in her bed and drew Fred to her in a warm embrace, in an effort to allay her daughter’s fears.

  


"Its just a dream darling," Geraldine said comfortingly. 

  


"No it’s not!" Fred insisted, vindicated in her opinion that had she told them the truth earlier she would not have been believed. "They’re there mummy! They’ve been watching us from their cars at night. They’re coming up the path now!" 

  


Perhaps it was the combination of the fear in her eyes or the claim that what terrified her was not a dream but something real that caused her father to climb out of bed and hurry to the window. Whatever the reason, when he arrived at the glass and looked through, what he was saw was enough to cast all further doubt from his mind.

  


"Gerry, take Fred and get out of the house," he ordered firmly. His gaze moving swiftly towards the cordless telephone on the bedside table.

  


"What is it Edward?" His wife asked automatically sweeping her young daughter in her arms. 

  


"Do it now!" He shouted as he picked up the receiver and began dialing furiously.

  


Fred’s mother nodded blindly and picked up her young daughter. She cast a brief glance at her husband who was waving with his hand for her to keep going while he waited anxiously for the telephone to connect him to the police station. Turning back towards the darkened hallway, she took a few more steps when she heard glass breaking. 

  


  
  
"They’re coming mummy," Fred said frightened as her mother continued down the stairs, intending to flee through the backdoor since the glass breaking was from the front. 

  


"Hush darling," Geraldine Bailey spoke softly, not wanting to know what agency had allowed their daughter the foresight to warn them of the danger, not until they were safely away from here. She cast an anxious glance at the upstairs bedroom, hoping her husband would join them soon. She could hear him talking and felt her heart soar with relief when it appeared that he had managed to contact the police. Help would arrive soon enough.

  


Mother and daughter reached the bottom of the steps and were about to take the parlor route to the backdoor when suddenly, five shapes appeared before them. Fred screamed as she saw the five men in front of them, their pasty colored faced with eyes hidden behind sunglasses in the dark close in on them. 

  


"What do you want?" Gerry demanded as she made a frantic dash towards the kitchen. 

  


They did not speak but one of them produced the gun that had been hiding in the shadows of their gloved palms. Fred saw him aim and pull the trigger. The sound was not booming as she expected a gun to be but soft and muffled. It was the last moment of sanity before she started screaming. Her mother’s head flew backwards, blood exploding from the back of her skull as the single bullet tore away in that moment everything that Geraldine Bailey would ever be. 

  


"MUMMY!" Fred screamed as the life bled out of her mother’s body and they both tumbled to the floor. 

  


Fred scrambled to her mother and saw her face covered in blood, the beautiful gold hair that danced in the sunlight was now matted in red. Her mother’s eyes were wide opened and staring into nothingness as Fred shook her hard, trying to wake her even though she knew in her heart that it was too late. 

  


As she had always known.

  


"Mummy, please wake up!" She squealed and shook the woman desperately, Eeyore still in her grip and similarly covered in red. 

  


Her cries had brought her father running down the staircase and Fred looked up to warn him of what was waiting for them but it was too late. 

  


"Oh my god Gerry!" He shouted in a mixture of horror and a sob as he saw his wife lying in an expanding pool of her own blood.

  


The bullets pummeled him in mid torso, a quick succession of shots that riddled his yellow pajamas top with holes oozing blood. He was half way down the steps when the shots were fired, stealing his life and the ability to control his movement one after the other. He nevertheless continued his descent in a nasty tumble that ended with the terrible crunch of bone when he finally reached the foot of the stairs, metres away from his dead wife and within reach of his weeping daughter. 

  


"Daddy!" Fred screamed, tearing herself away from her mother’s dead form and crawling towards her father, whom she did not know was beyond hope. His head rolled back as he came to a stop at the foot of the steps, blood trickling down the corner of his lips as he remained frozen and unmoving. She tried to rouse him but was no more successful than she had been with the attempt to wake her mother. Her tears grew more frantic because in her mind she had seen this scene so many times before. She had seen them die in this very fashion but until this moment when it became more than just a nightmare, when it transcended the dreamscape into a reality, did she remember it.

  


Fred raised her eyes to her parent’s murderers and saw them converging on her. If they had seemed frightening when she had spied them from her window earlier, they now appeared absolutely terrifying. The leader of them stepped forward, walking past the body of her mother as if he did not even see it because he had only eyes for Fred. Fred wanted to run but she was too afraid and after seeing her parents killed before her, no longer knew whether or not she wanted to flee. She wanted to die with them. 

  


He looked at her through the darkened sunglasses and reached down with a gloved hand. Fred tried to shrink away but his hands were around her throat before she even think about putting any distance between them. He lifted her off the floor, causing her to drop Eeyore as her tiny hands clawed at her neck in desperation because she could not breath. As her feet began to dangle over the floor, kicking hard in desperation as the fingers around her neck held her in a vise like grip, she found it becoming harder to draw breath.

  


Her captor pulled her forward, until her small face was inches from him. In desperation, Fred lashed out with one tiny fist, unwittingly knocking the sunglasses from his face. Fred stopped struggling when she looked into the man’s face and saw that his pasty white skin was not skin at all but rather a mask, a clever rubber mask like she saw in the windows of costume stores. Where there should have been eyes, there was only the glow of red. He seemed to note her discovery and lowered his face so that it was inches away from hers and spoke through the slits that made up the mouth of the mask, uttering one word only in a slow, prolonged whisper.

  


"Bagginsssss....."

  


**********

  


It was well after dark when Bryan finally arrived in Cardiff and made his way to Riverside. Upon arriving in the coastal town in Wales, Bryan began his searched for David Saeran’s agents in the community of Riverside, a collection of nice, middle classed homes not far from a popular co-op market. It was a pretty place, the kind one would imagine as the height of simple, domestic bliss. Why David Saeran had ordered a kidnapping and a murder in such surroundings was more than confusing. Who was this man that had earned Saeran’s displeasure enough to warrant a kidnapping and the death of anyone around him? Was it someone who could connect the tycoon to Black Serpent? Bryan really hoped so because there would be hell to pay when he finally told Caldwell what he had been up to the past week.

  


He had driven around Riverside, searching for something he knew not what, aware only that he was close to it. Up and down the suburbs he had driven, seeing nothing but ordinary folk going about their business. Lights dimmed early in the neighborhood and after that the only other source of life seemed to be the local pub. Yes, it was a nice area to live and under different circumstances, a place Bryan would not have minded putting down roots himself. 

  


He had almost started to wonder whether or not he had been mistaken when he saw two, nondescript cars parked on opposite sides of a quiet street. Both were black, with tinted windows and obscured license plates. Bryan had been in the game enough to know what an unmarked car looked like. Slowing down as he proceeded down the street, he tried to locate the occupants of the car and discovered that they were not in the vehicle when he heard a scream. Pulling the car immediately to the pavement, Bryan emerged into the night air and listened carefully for the sound once more. What he was rewarded with after a brief pause was a man’s frantic voice before it was abruptly silenced.

  


Bryan acted quickly, going to his boot and removing the weapons he had stocked there. The optional extras, which he so misleadingly called them, were an automatic rifle with self-loading magazines. Once he was armed, Bryan made his way to the source of the cries. He could see movement through the open front door of the house as he made his way silently into the grounds, avoiding the obvious front steps. Peering through a window, he could see two people on the floor. The light was dim but the manner in which they were lying indicated to Bryan that it was already too late for them. 

  


There were five of them, Bryan counted, spread out through the room. All wearing the same dark clothes, hats and all. The leader was holding a child in his grip, a tiny waif of thing who was obviously terrified and was clutching the hand around her throat, trying desperately to break free. Bryan was outnumbered and he knew it but could not bring himself to do nothing when that child was in so much need. Where was this man that they had been ordered to kidnap? Had it all gone wrong and resulted in his death instead of his abduction? If that were the case, then the child was beyond his ability to save even if he did go in there with guns blazing.

  


However, instead of snapping her neck easily, the killer relinquished his grip of her neck and lowered her down. The child crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath as her parent’s killer regarded her like a specimen in her.

  


"Take her..." he ordered in that terrible hiss of a voice, and caused the others to move towards her.

  


Bryan knew that he would never have a chance and immediately opened fired through the window. The child crouched low, giving him the opportunity to act and with careful precision emptied a dozen bullets through the window. Windows shattered and objects were torn apart as the bullets flew through the room and at Saeran’s men. They turned their attention to the Bryan, trying to discern the source of the bullets but the MI6 agent was already barreling through the front door and opened fire once more. Some managed to return fire but he dove beneath their range towards the young girl who was now screaming loudly in terror.

  


The man closest to Bryan had been the one holding the child in his grip and as he approached her once more, Bryan threw a hard kick into his sternum. The man doubled over but Bryan’s attention was soon drawn to his comrades. Spinning around, he opened fired on those who had regained their equilibrium after his unexpected arrival on the scene. He released another hail of bullets, sending them sprawling as the bullets tore through their bodies and turned his attention to the man he had just driven away from the child. When he turned to Bryan, the MI6 agents stopped short because he was staring at two crimson point of light where there should have been eyes. For a moment, Bryan thought he was dreaming until he heard movement behind him and saw that the men he had shot, were far from dead but were rising to their feet as if he had never fired a single bullet at them. 

  


"What the hell...." Bryan stared to say but cut short his exclamations of shock because he was nowhere out of danger yet. 

  


The creature with the crimson eyes started towards him while peeling off his mask. Bryan stared mesmerized as the rubberized mask fell to the ground and in place of a face was empty air. This was not possible, he wanted to say but the words would not come because he was still too stunned by what he was seeing. They were converging upon him and he knew without any doubt that to stay was to die. A split second was all he needed before he was running towards the child, sweeping her into his arms as he covered his retreat in another hail of bullets. The bullets may not have been able to stop the creatures falling into swift pursuit but it was capable of slowing them down.

  


"Hold on to me!" he ordered Fred as he held her tight and was grateful when the child obeyed without question, her hands and legs wrapping tightly around his neck and waist respectively. He emptied almost an entire magazine into the enemy when he reached the backdoor and pulled it open. The cold air of the night swept past him as he escaped into the backyard. In the distance, he could hear the siren of police cars answering the calls of neighbors who had no doubt reported the disturbance and the gunfire. 

  


Bryan looked behind him and saw that they were giving chase, although his efforts to widen the gap with gunfire had succeeded. He leapt across the fence into the neighbors yard and use the building and the darkness to return to the street where his car was parked. Some of the five had guessed his intent and had doubled back to intercept him on the street, fortunately Bryan was closer to his car then they were to him. He jumped into the Jaguar with the child still clinging to him with seconds to spare. The enemy was shooting at him and too many times did the bullets come very close to meeting flesh. Bryan tore Fred off him and placed her in the passenger’s seat when he saw the creatures approaching him through the rear view mirror.

  


Unwilling to allow them any closer, at least until he knew what the hell he was up against, Bryan started the engines and threw the car into gear. The Jaguar roared to life beneath him and surged forward when the MI6 agent jammed his foot on the accelerator and sent it off to a speeding start. In the rear view mirror, he could see the men in the dark suits making for their car, intending to give pursuit. However, the sound of sirens was drawing nearer and as Bryan sped away from the Riverside district, he turned quickly into a small alley, to avoid letting the police see him, he knew that their pursuers would not be able to evade the authorities so easily. 

  


Just as well he decided, he needed to think about what he had seen. His mind was still wrestling with the notion that any of what he had witnessed was real. The man, no it was not man, it something invisible, given shape by the clothes it wore, with crimson red eyes, that could not be killed, at least not by bullets. Bryan kept driving, putting as much distance between himself and those things, whatever they were because he did not know what to do. It was not until after Cardiff was behind him did he remember that he had a passenger. 

  


  
  
Bryan glanced at the young girl, curled up into a little ball on the passenger seat, her face streaked with tears and her clothes splattered in blood. Suddenly, without knowing how, Bryan was certain that whatever this was nightmare was he had stumbled into, she was also apart of it.

  



	4. Chapter Three: Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

The _Anemone’s_ first port of call upon its official return to the  
modern world was the coastal port of Lochinver in Scotland. A quaint fishing town  
on the western edge of the Britain, Lochinver’s greatest call to fame was the  
magnificent Suilven Mountain that was visible from any corner of the small  
community. The mountain was an impressive protrusion of rock that soared  
majestically out of the earth like a blunt cone, crowned by snow and clouds.  
Although the largest port in western Scotland, Lochinver seemed small and  
isolated to newcomers. Houses scattered the shoreline behind stone embankments  
and though they stretched over a large area; one had the feeling that it still  
considered itself a fishing village. Surrounded by either the Suilven or the  
more distant Canisp Mountains, Lochinver seemed as trapped in time as Valinor.

The sun was moving vaguely through the morning fog when the _Anemone_  
eased gently towards the dock for mooring. Damp air filtered through their  
lungs, as they emerged from the innards of the vessel, eager to feel ground  
beneath their feet for the first time in many weeks. Despite the alien  
environment that the elves would be entering, Aaron got the impression that  
they too were glad for land. Aaron had always wanted to sail the waters of  
Northern Scotland, to visit the Orkney Islands and such but the opportunity had  
never presented itself. Thus it had been a special treat when the return to the  
world demanded they travel that particular route since Lochinver was remote  
enough to allow their arrival to go relatively unnoticed. After all, the people  
were accustomed to strangers stepping through the mist from the sea.

Gandalf hid himself beneath a long, grey cloak and did not look very  
different from the old mariners that were watching the wharf and the boats  
sailing into the harbor. He even paused to converse with them a little as Aaron  
went about securing the _Anemone_ a permanent berth while it was in  
Lochinver. Travelling by sea to more populated areas was going to raise  
suspicion, particularly if the coast guard stopped them. By land, they could  
travel southward, remaining out of sight of the authorities for awhile longer.  
Legolas and Haldir were wearing some of his clothes and Aaron made a mental  
note to do some shopping because they did not fit them well and if any in their  
party needed to look inconspicuous, it was the elven warriors.

Fortunately, it was early in the morning and the only folk who were up and  
about on a day like this were fishermen preparing their catches for the  
markets. Those who had already come back from the early haul, were more  
interested in the business at hand rather than the arrival of strangers into  
their midst. The air was heavy with the salt of the sea and it was a comfort to  
the elves in particular who were wary of their new surroundings. Although  
Legolas had journeyed from Valinor previously, the modern world was still an  
alien place to him and he was just as unaccustomed to his surroundings as  
Haldir. 

As the port began to come alive with the morning, they wandered into a local  
eatery catering to the needs of the working port. Most of the patrons within  
the place were fishermen, concluding the day with a hearty breakfast after  
their labors at sea. Despite Aaron’s best efforts to make Legolas and Haldir  
blend in, they were raising a few curious stares as they sat in the booth of  
the restaurant waiting to be served. Once again, Aaron told himself that they  
would have to get proper fitting garments as soon as possible since the elegant  
grace of elves did not lend well to his clothes. For the life of him he could  
not imagine what would make either of them blend in. 

Perhaps long coats, he thought to himself.

"Now what I bring you all to start?" A rather round, red-cheeked  
woman with a curly dark hair and a bright smile asked after distributing menus  
across the table. Haldir and Legolas looked at the laminated piece of paper  
quizzically while Gandalf took a moment to study his own. 

"Coffee," Eve answered smoothly, marveling at how easy it was to  
switch from speaking elvish to English once more. "Strong, black coffee, a  
stack of pancakes with honey, bacon and eggs with toast, I prefer my eggs  
scrambled but if I can’t have it that way sunny side up will do. Do you have  
cake?" 

She said this in one breath.

"We have chocolate," the woman nodded, somewhat impressed by Eve’s  
appetite. "You’ve been starving yourself lass?"

"I’ve been dieting for awhile," Eve deadpanned. "One slice of  
chocolate cake please."

The woman scribbled down the order and looked at the others at the table.  
While most of what Eve had said was lost on Haldir and Legolas, Aaron and  
Gandalf were still staring at her.

"And what will you have?" The waitress turned her attention to  
Aaron.

"Hopefully not a coronary," Aaron retorted, disapproving at Eve’s  
choice of menu from a medical point of view. 

"Very funny," Eve replied, not at all repentant at her indulgence.  


Aaron proceeded to order for Haldir and Legolas, deciding the pancakes were  
good for Legolas since he had enjoyed them the last time he was in the world of  
men. Naturally the meal would be accompanied by a bottle of coke since the elf  
had missed the drink terribly when the supply Aaron brought to Valinor was  
finally exhausted. Haldir did not have much of a sweet tooth and so Aaron  
ordered him something that would not upset his palette too much since the food  
here was something he would have to get accustomed to. When the waitress  
finally went away and left them alone, the group finally found the leave to  
speak freely.

"I think they know we are strangers," Haldir remarked in elvish,  
noting how everyone was sneaking glances their way.

"We’ll just say you’re from California," Eve replied in the same,  
looking forward to her first cup of real coffee in six months. 

"We should not linger here too long," Legolas warned as he tugged  
uncomfortably at the collar of the sweater he was wearing. "We bring undue  
attention to you by our presence."

"The authorities will come after me soon enough," Aaron shrugged,  
"I don’t think how different you look will make that happen any faster.  
Besides, I’m not sure where we’re even supposed to go from here. Gandalf?"  
Aaron stared at the Istar in answer to that question.

"My instincts say we go south," Gandalf replied, frowning at the  
sign that told him smoking was not allowed in the restaurant. 

"It will be easier by car," Eve suggested. "We try to make it  
that by boat and we’re going to run into the coast guard sooner or later.  
Besides, my credit card is still valid; we can get a car and head down to  
London. Is that far enough south?" She looked at Gandalf.

  
  
"It will do," the Maia answered with a slight nod.

"London it is I guess," Aaron declared before adding further,  
"well need a place to lay low while we’re there, I can look up an old  
friend. I’m sure she won’t mind letting us stay."

"She?" Eve’s brows shot up in question. "Who’s she?’

"Stuart’s ex wife," Aaron shrugged, realising he had just walked  
into a minefield and explained quickly before he found himself on the receiving  
end of a full vent of female suspicion. Gandalf was already smirking and  
Legolas, who knew him well enough, was trying to suppress a smile at Eve’s  
pointed inquiry.

"Stuart was married?" Eve declared in surprise, ignoring the  
juvenile sniggering between the males at the table. Eve was not all threatened  
by the fact that Aaron had other women in his life before her and her question  
had been one of curiosity more than anything else. Still, she could not deny  
that she was glad that the lady in question had turned out to be Stuart’s  
ex-wife. At the moment the situation was too complicated to tolerate the  
presence of an old girlfriend and not because she was jealous. 

Well, not completely. 

"Yeah for a while," he answered wondering how his best friend’s ex  
wife would take his sudden arrival at her doorstep with an entourage.  
"Stuart met her when we were backpacking across Europe after college. They  
got married in England but she came with him to New York after the wedding.  
They were together for five years before it finally ended. It was an amicable  
divorce so we all stayed pretty close, even after she went home to  
London."

"What is a divorce?" Legolas asked.

"It’s when two people who are married decided to dissolve the  
union," Gandalf explained helpfully. "It is an unpleasant affair  
resulting in a division of property and assets. They sometimes even fight over  
the children and pets."

"For someone who spent the last four hundred years as an insane  
derelict, you sure know a lot about it," Eve noted sarcastically.

"Well, when one was forced to rifle through rubbish for food, one  
sometimes had to pay attention to the tabloids and newspapers people throw  
away. Aside from making good bedding, it was something to read at night,"  
Gandalf returned with a smile.

"How terrible," the former prince of Mirkwood frowned at the whole  
notion. "And you say it was done amicably?"

"Yeah sure," Aaron shrugged supposing to the elves, who chose  
their partners for all eternity, the concept of divorce was an alien one.  
Certainly, he could not even begin to imagine the longevity of Elrond and  
Celebrian’s marriage, not to mention Galadriel and Celeborn’s union.  
"Look. Tory and Stuart were very much in love but it takes more then that  
to make a marriage work sometimes. She was the feisty type and Stuart just  
didn’t like confrontations. In truth, they got along better when they weren’t  
married."

"Your race is strange," Legolas shrugged not understanding.

"No more stranger than they were a hundred thousand years ago,"  
Haldir replied. "I can see the expediency of it however. Your lives are  
too short to waste on unhappy unions."

"Thank you, I think." Aaron returned, uncertain if that  
observation was astute or insulting. "Anyway, I trust Tory. If we need a  
place to stay, I don’t think she’ll turn us away."

"Aaron that’s a big ask," Eve said seriously. "There’s five  
of us and you could possibly be a fugitive."

"I’m not forgetting that," Aaron said seriously. "But I know  
Tory and she’ll help us if I ask."

"I have a feeling that before this is done," Gandalf replied  
staring at the television screen mounted on the wall and taking in his first  
sight of David Saeran on the news, "we will need all the help we can  
get."

***********

Bryan did not stop driving until he was well away from Cardiff and certain  
that no one was following them. It appeared their escape from Riverside had  
gone smoothly for the moment but under no circumstances did the MI6 agent feel  
the danger was over. He almost to the outskirts of Newport before he had dared  
to draw a breath, his mind racing at a million miles an hour as he tried to  
come to terms with what he had seen little more than a hour ago. He was a  
rational man who believed in things he could see. His mind was thrived on the  
comforting fact that very little surprised him. At this stage in his life, he  
had seen almost everything life could throw at him and was not only jaded but  
also rather comfortable with the whole idea of being in absolute control of his  
environment.

What he saw in that house shattered that safe illusion into a thousand  
fragments.

It was no trick of the dark or any kind of technology that he knew. When  
that creature, whatever it was, took off that mask, there had been nothing  
behind it. Yet the clothes molded to a body, the crimson eyes radiating malice  
were attached to a form, even if it was one he could not see. Yet he had put an  
entire magazine into it and the others with him and other than being  
momentarily surprised by the gunfire, it had left no permanent effect upon  
them. They should have been killed by that much ammunition but they were not.  
They had stood up and given chase. Yet, his mind would not allow him to think  
that they were invulnerable. The man and woman who laid dead on the floor of  
that house, were not killed by apparitions. 

What took their life was real. It was no phantom even if it was capable of  
appearing as one. 

And if they were real, they could be killed. They had to be because to  
believe otherwise was to be defeated before he even understood what he was  
facing. He thought of telling Caldwell what he had seen but understood quickly  
the reality of his situation. If he were to bring such a tale to his superior,  
they would have him in a straightjacket in a matter of hours. Agents as highly  
placed, as he did not go on off the deep end without very permanent  
consequences. He would be dealt with and quickly. Besides if he was to appeal  
to his superior for assistance in this situation, it would probably be best if  
Caldwell did _not_ think he was insane.

Pulling up to a petrol station, Bryan sat in his car for a moment, trying to  
understand what had happened. Saeran had sent those things after someone but  
the kidnapping had gone badly. Obviously, they were forced to kill the target  
and his wife. However, he could not understand why they had hesitated with the  
child. He had witnessed what happened when he arrived on the scene. The killer  
had the child in his hands, he could have killed her there and then. There was  
no other alternative. The child had obviously seen everything. She could not be  
left alive to tell the authorities her tale. Yet he knew that the creatures had  
not intended to kill the girl. With every fiber of his being Bryan was certain  
of it. 

So why was she still alive?

For the first time since they had started driving, Bryan turned his  
attention to the young girl who was still huddled in a fetal position on his  
passenger seat. She was shuddering with tears, her little pink nightgown  
smeared in blood. He looked at her and felt a surge of pity for the poor mite,  
having been witnessed to such a terrible scene as the murder of her parents.  
Bryan estimated she could not be any more than six years old and realized for  
the first time that he had not bothered to see if she was hurt or not. There  
had been a lot of gunfire when he went in to the house guns blazing and when  
they had ran for their lives.

"Are you alright?" He finally found voice enough to speak.  
Outside, it was still dark and the petrol station was mercifully deserted.  
Bryan had no desire of drawing undue attention if someone noticed a grown man  
in a car with a girl, all alone at this hour. 

She did not answer but continued to shake with tears. He could hear her  
sniffles and felt each sob pierce his heart more than it should. For God’s  
sake, he had seen things that would leave some people with nightmares forever,  
this should not be affecting him. Bryan reached for her and his touch made her  
sit up but only out of fear. Within seconds, she was pressed up against the  
side of the door, staring at him with wide eyes brimming with moisture, strands  
of hair clinging to her tear stained cheeks.

"Are you alright?" Bryan asked again, starting to become gripped  
with the very real fear that she might have been injured in some way. "Are  
you hurt?"

She did not speak but continued to stare and sniffle in tandem. The fear in  
her expression so palpable, that Bryan realised that he was right, she had seen  
everything that had happened to her parents. 

"I need to know if you’re hurt," Bryan tried again, this time using  
a gentler voice and a more trusting one he hoped. "I know that you’re  
frightened but I won’t hurt you, I promise. I just need to know if you are  
alright because if you’re not, I’ll have to get you to a doctor."

She stared at him for a few more seconds, trying to decide whether or not he  
could be trusted. The instincts for strangers which she had relied upon for so  
many years, that knew today would be a black day in her life, was somewhat  
vague on the subject of this man. For once, Fred had to use her mind instead of  
her heart to decide what she ought to do. He had saved her life. He had come  
into the house and saved her when the men with the red eyes would have surely  
harmed her. Even if she did not completely trust him, she could not ignore  
that. 

"I’m not hurt," she said after a lengthy pause.

Bryan let out a sigh of relief and a smile in quick succession. "That’s  
good to know. My name is Bryan," he introduced himself. "What’s  
yours?"

Fred swallowed thickly, her heart still heavy with the realization that  
mummy and daddy were gone and that this man was now her protector for a time.  
She did not know whether she could really trust him but he was able to hide  
from the bad men and right now, he was all she had.

"Fred."

"Fred?" He cocked his brow in mild surprise. "That’s an  
unusual name for a little girl. Is it short for something?"

Fred nodded and answered after a moment’s pause, "Frederica."

"I think I like Fred better," he replied trying not to frighten  
her. He could only imagine what fresh demons were infusing themselves into her  
psyche after what she had witnessed tonight. He did not have much contact with  
children and wished that were otherwise at this moment because he had no idea  
how to relate to a six-year-old child suffering the traumas that she had.  
However, he did know that to send her on her way just so he could absolve  
himself of the responsibility was a mistake. Until he learnt why her parents  
were killed and why David Saeran had ordered it, she was not safe anywhere,  
even with him. 

"Fred," he let out a heavy sigh deciding that the best way to  
proceed at this moment was to simply tell her the truth. "I don’t know who  
those men were in your house but I’m sure that they won’t stop looking for you.  
They know you saw what they did to your mum and dad so they’ll be after you for  
certain. I think it is best that you stay with me until we figure things out.  
Is that alright with you?"

"They didn’t want mummy and daddy," Fred said bitterly, fresh  
tears breaking through her efforts not to cry," they wanted me. They only  
wanted me!"

"You?" Bryan said in disbelief, "no I’m sure that’s not  
right. They were after your dad."dsd

"You don’t know anything!" She spat angrily. "They didn’t  
want daddy! They wanted me! They’ve always wanted me!" 

It was impossible, Bryan told himself as she made that claim. Bryan knew  
what he had heard. Saeran had demanded the kidnapping of a man. Bring him to me  
alive, he had said. Bring _him_. No doubt this child was developing the  
inevitable feelings of guilt that came with being left alive that was making  
her believe she was the intended victim of those creatures. Bryan saw no reason  
to aggravate her by contradicting her statement; at least until a little more  
time had passed. It had been a traumatic night for her and he did not want to  
exacerbate her mental state any further until he knew what was to be done. 

"Maybe they did," he said in a conciliatory tone. "But right  
now, I think we need to get you somewhere safe for the night."

"I want to go home," Fred whimpered. 

  
  
"I’m sorry Fred," Bryan shook his head. "Its not safe for you to  
go home."

"I know," she said meeting his gaze with surprising understanding.  
"They’ll be watching, the men with the red eyes."

"You saw them?" He exclaimed. Until now, he had not been sure that  
she had seen what he had. However, if she had witnessed the same then it was  
proof that he had not completely lost his mind. 

  
  
"Yes," she nodded fearfully. "They had red eyes and no  
faces."

Bryan’s stomach hollowed at the memory of seeing those terrible eyes and  
wished he knew what they were and more importantly, what they wanted with this  
girl and her family. "So did I," he confessed. "Fred, until we  
know what they are, you can’t go home.""He sent them," Fred  
muttered looking away at the night sky beyond the glass of the window.That  
caught Bryan’s interest."He?" Bryan stared at her. "Who’s  
he?"  
  
"I don’t know," Fred shook her head, her lips curling in a pout as  
she felt herself ready for a fresh bout of tears. She thought of mummy in the  
garden today and daddy watching cartoons and knew that she would never know  
that happiness again. Her world had shrunk into this car and to this stranger,  
whom she was forced to rely upon. She didn’t know him and yet she had no choice  
but to trust him. "He watches. He always watches.""Have you seen  
him watching?" Bryan looked at her, feeling a cold shudder running up his  
spine as sharp as when he heard Saeran’s henchman speak for the first  
time."Yes," she nodded, turning her blue eyes at him. "I see him  
in my dreams." 

************

In the heart of the Henan Province in China, Xiang Li awoke from an odd  
dream.He rose from his bed, shaking a little at the uneasiness that had  
followed him from his slumber into the waking world, crowding his thoughts with  
anxieties he could not name. Stepping into the small cubicle that acted as his  
bathroom, the forty year old man proceeded to wash his face with water, hoping  
that the cold would shake him out of this malaise that plagued his mornings for  
so many weeks. The icy cold water served the purpose of bringing clarity to his  
mind but it did not ease the burden his mind to any extent. He let out a heavy  
sigh as he remained hunched over the white porcelain basin, droplets of water  
running down his skin before splattering against the ceramic as he lingered for  
a moment, hoping that this morning would be different from all the others. That  
this time, the strange sensation of not being quite in control of himself would  
fade.

It was not.

And when that brief period had ended  
with no significant change, he would straighten up and look at himself in the  
mirror before concluding that he was fine and whatever he had been feeling a  
moment ago, was pure foolishness. In a shorter time then that, he would forget  
completely that anything had ever disturbed him, attributing the mood to a  
slight case of the early morning blues. A man in his position could not afford  
to waste time and as he embarked upon the morning rituals in readiness for the  
day ahead, the discomfort he had felt when he awoke was so far away that he  
gave it no further thought. His uniform was pressed and waiting for him inside  
the cupboard of his quarters in the military facility of Luoning. 

A Colonel of the 401st Brigade could not afford to be late for duty.

Being stationed at the Luoning facility was one of the most prestigious  
honors for a military officer in the People’s Army. Luoning was the one of two  
nuclear silos established in Central China in the early 1980s containing four  
DF-5 ICBMs that were maintained in ready to fire status at all times. Although  
the threat of these weapons being deployed in a military strike was remote  
these days, it was still an important assignment that would embellish the  
record of any career military officer. Xiang took pride in being one of the  
many guardians of the Republic’s greatest weapons. He had been stationed at  
Luoning for almost ten years and had earned a position of trust and a  
reputation that would enhance his standing when he chose to move his ambitions  
to a political arena. 

Once he was dressed, Xiang studied himself in the mirror and was pleased to  
note that he was the impeccable model of a colonel in the People’s Army. He was  
almost ready to leave his quarters to begin the day when he felt a burning  
sensation on his hand. Frowning in annoyance, he raised his right hand and  
stared at the gold band around his finger. His mistress had presented it to him  
during his last visit to Shanghai and though it appeared exquisitely made with  
ornate designs he did not recognize as being a language, it seemed to burn at  
times, as if he was allergic to the metal. However, the occasions were rare and  
he liked the look of it on his finger and was reluctant to remove it. Lately,  
he had even begun to dream about the accursed thing. 

He dreamed he could hear it speak.

***********

Although Gandalf did not say so, Aaron sensed that time was against them by  
the Istar’s desire to begin the next leg of their journey as quickly as  
possible. As discussed, Eve bought an affordable yet reliable car from a local  
dealership so that they could leave Lochinver that day itself. The _Anemone_  
was berthed discreetly at the wharf and would be safe until they were ready to  
return to claim her. Since there was no record of his attachment to the vessel,  
Aaron was certain that it would remain safe during their time in the modern  
world. The people of Lochinver appeared to be trustworthy and their maritime  
history ensured that when it came to a man’s boat, it was almost sovereign  
territory.

Which was just as well because Haldir and Legolas were drawing attention  
wherever they appeared in public, even it was for a matter of a few hours.  
Despite concealing their ears beneath their long blond hair, it was apparent to  
just about everyone that they did not fit in. Whether or not it was their  
strange behavior or their natural luminescence, it was clear that they were  
strangers and strangers in small towns tended to draw attention, which was  
something the company did not need at this time. Fortunately, the city was  
better able to blanket them in anonymity because urbanites were too focused on  
themselves to be concerned with the rest of the world. Living all his life in  
New York had taught Aaron that much about people, without his needing to drawn  
on his considerable experience as a psychiatrist.

"I thought you said your clothes would help us blend in," Legolas  
declared as they stepped out of a local department store prior to their  
departure from Lochinver. Aaron had decided that it was impossible for either  
of the elves to look natural in any of his clothes so the best thing he could  
think of was to buy two long coats instead. It would mask how strange they  
appeared in modern clothing and look completely acceptable since the weather  
was somewhat cold.

"For some strange reason, it just looks like you’re not a sweater and  
jeans kind of guy," Aaron remarked as they stepped onto the sidewalk and  
began walking back to the car that Eve was presently servicing at the near by  
petrol station. "Trust me, this is better for you Legolas," Aaron  
said as he saw Legolas buttoned himself into the long, wool coat. Of course he  
punctuated this statement by placing a bright orange tourist cap upon the brow  
of the former prince of Mirkwood.

Haldir sniggered immediately at how unbecoming Legolas looked before Aaron  
silenced him with an equally satisfied smirk, "don’t laugh, I’ve got one  
for you too."

"I am not wearing this," Haldir looked at the orange cap with  
undisguised dislike as Legolas started to laugh. "I do not see the reason  
for having to appear so unseemly or having to wear _your_ clothes. Surely  
these people must be familiar with strangers who dressed unlike themselves?  
After all, they must have many visitors to these shores."

"They do," Aaron returned distracted as he tried not to laugh at  
the sight of Legolas fitting his cap _over_ his ears. Keeping a straight  
face when the elf was trying to look dignified in the eyesore of a cap was  
difficult enough without having to deal with Haldir’s version of an elven snit.  
"However, in your own clothes, they’ll either think you’re crazy or from  
the twelfth century and since we’re trying to stay inconspicuous, I prefer they  
do neither."

"If I can put this ludicrous thing on, so can you," Legolas barked  
at him in annoyance. "Or are you not brave enough to rise to the  
occasion?" 

"My courage will match yours any day in any age," Haldir returned,  
not willing to be outdone.

"Well its nice to know that despite being a hundred thousand years old  
each, you two can still get into a pissing contest."

Both looked at him in question despite Aaron’s decision not to elaborate on  
that comment. Thankfully, they arrived at the petrol station where a diligent  
petrol station attendant was presently treating the old Ford Galaxy that Eve  
had purchased to a full tank of gas and a change of oil. Gandalf was already  
waiting in the backseat of the car while Eve was at the convenience store  
buying supplies for their trip. The sun was climbing well past noon and the  
station was filled with a dozen other cars, to which the elves looked on in  
interest. Haldir for most part tried not to look impressed and Aaron had a  
sense that this was an elf that liked above all else to be perceived as the  
height on elven calm, even among his own people. 

Still despite his efforts, as so astutely concluded by Aaron, Haldir was  
nevertheless overwhelmed by the world of men for even Legolas’ stories about  
the realm in Valinor did not do it justice. It seemed to him that men had  
become lost in their technology and seeing the world that had given Eve and  
Aaron life, explained a great deal about their manner. He also understood why  
they had taken so well to Valinor. The serenity and peace of the Undying Lands  
had to be a welcome change from the chaos of this world. 

"Does the air always smell so fell?" Haldir asked as he and  
Legolas joined Gandalf in the car. Neither elf was happy to be confined to the  
metal carriage. Haldir, because it seemed like such a foreign way to travel and  
Legolas because he remembered what an ordeal it was the last time he had been  
in such a vehicle. Fortunately, on this occasion, _Eve_ was driving.

"Unfortunately yes," Gandalf remarked. "Men have little  
difficulty in contaminating the air with every imaginable pollutant. If they do  
not notice it then it concerns them little. It is one of the occasions when  
they would do well with an elf’s sense of smell. Perhaps if they knew what they  
were pouring into the sky, they would not be so quick to foul it."

"You know I _am_ in the car," Aaron said sarcastically. 

  
  
"Forgive me Aaron," Gandalf said apologetically, "I did not mean  
to offend but you must admit that I have not spoken out of turn."

"No you haven’t," Aaron shrugged unable to deny that his race  
created an environmental hazard wherever they settled. "People are  
starting to grow up about the environment, but I think it’s too little, too late."

"There is always hope," Legolas remarked, not one to see the worst  
in any situation, even it appeared that way.

Haldir gazed out the window of the car and saw people going about their  
business, with cars racing down the motorway at speeds that put horses to  
shame. As they drove past, they spewed out clouds of noxious folk and it  
appeared the construction of roads and homes were made at convenience, with  
little consideration about the land that was being ravaged. It distressed him  
to think that if matters were such in community as small as this, what would it  
be like in a large urban centre.

Discussions about the environment were shunted aside when Eve returned to  
the car after thanking the petrol attendant whom had finished his ministrations  
on the engine. 

"Here you go," Eve handed a plastic bag to Aaron who immediately  
went rifling through its contents. 

"If we ever get back to Valinor, I want to be there when you explain to  
Elrond how you come you gained twenty pounds," he retorted in disapproval  
as he saw the snacks she had purchased. As a medical doctor, he could not help  
but balk at the sugar content before him.

"Hey," she looked at him sharply, "I’ve been living on lembas  
for the last year. Excuse me if I need a serious chocolate fix."

"And I thought Legolas was bad with Coke," Aaron shook his head in  
resignation. "I don’t know why you need this much chocolate, its not as if  
you’ve been celibate," he muttered under his breath

  
  
"Oh really?" Gandalf, whose hearing was on par with any elf’s, asked  
with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Mind your own business," Eve looked over her shoulder. "You  
may be an immortal, but you’re still a nosey old man."

"That goes without saying," Legolas grinned. "In the days of  
old, Gandalf was said to be more reliable than a palantir."

"One cannot battle the forces of evil without being in the know of  
things," the Maia replied without a hint of repentance.

"I’m sure," Eve retorted with scepticism before returning to the  
business at hand. "Okay, everybody buckle up, we’re going. Our next rest  
break is in an hour so if you haven’t gone, you’re going to have to hold  
it."

"Just drive the car Eve," Aaron threw her a look because he had no  
intention of explaining to either Legolas and Haldir what a rest break was  
until it was absolutely necessary.

Legolas’s first instinct when the engine roared to life was to grab onto  
something. In this case, the headrest of Aaron’s seat. Although Haldir appeared  
composed, it became quite clear that his first experience with in an automobile  
was cause for some apprehension. While he seemed outwardly calm, the evidence  
of his anxiety was noticeable to all since he appeared decidedly paler than  
usual, quite a feat considering elves did not tan and by the fact that the  
knuckle’s digging into the leather of the backseat were white with tension.  
Gandalf on the other hand, had pulled the brim of his tweed driving cap over  
his face with the intention of spending the journey southward, taking a nap.

"You guys going to be okay?" Aaron asked with concern as he noted  
the anxious expressions on Legolas and Haldir’s faces respectively.

"We have survived far worse than this," Haldir remarked coolly,  
even though his pallor indicate anything but the calm he was attempting to  
project.

"Yeah but that was just Middle Earth, this is the English  
motorway," Aaron declared. 

"I feel safe as long as Eve is driving," Legolas responded with  
false bravado and received a scathing glare from Aaron at the slight to his  
driving skills.

"Will you quit fussing over them," Eve retorted impatient to get  
underway. "They’re fine."

With that she pulled the car onto the road and immediately caused a  
commotion of blaring horns and screeching wheels before slamming her foot on  
the brakes and bringing them to an abrupt halt that tossed them back and forth  
in the car violently. Other cars had screeched to a sudden halt in front of the  
Ford and even Gandalf had been jarred out of his repose by the sudden braking.  
The elves appeared green instead of white and Aaron rubbed the bridge of his  
nose wearily before looking remarking at Eve.

"Drive on the _other_ side of the road, Eve."

**************

It was almost dawn when Bryan returned home to his flat in Hammersmith. So  
far, he had resisted the urge to turn on the radio while he had been driving  
because the report of two people being murdered in cold blood being breezily  
reported by overly an perky newsreader was probably more than Fred could  
tolerate at this time. The young girl had been a silent passenger for most of  
the journey, having cried herself to sleep after they had left Newport. Bryan  
had thought he was put to the test when he was trained to resist torture but  
all that seemed inconsequential when faced with a child's pitiful tears, even  
if they were shed silently in an effort to keep him from hearing.

She was a brave little thing, Bryan thought as she faced away from him and  
tried to hide the intense sorrow she must have surely felt for the loss of both  
parents in a single night. He wished he had known what to say to her, to ease  
the burden of her terrible loss but the truth was, Bryan's experience with  
children was next to nothing. The only reason he had managed to coax her into  
speaking at all because he believed the best way to deal with her for the lack  
of any real experience was to be as honest as possible. Dealing with children  
was something his brother, the archaeologist, was better at, probably because  
Frank actually _had_ children. If Frank lived in England, Bryan would have  
considered taking Fred to him but since his brother and his family was roaming  
about Africa on one dig or another, it was more or less a moot point.

She was still asleep when they arrived at his apartment and he was grateful  
that it was still relatively early because no one saw him enter the premises  
with the young girl. Considering that she was still wearing her blood  
splattered nightgown, it would have raised all sorts of questions if he had  
been noticed by his neighbours and at the moment, this child's life depended on  
no one having the least bit suspicion that she was in his company. Bryan  
carried her into the confines of his flat and went immediately to the guest  
room that had until now been the storage space for anything he did not want to  
trip over in the other parts of the flat. A moment of reflection as to whether  
or not it was entirely the safest place to put a six year old soon had him  
heading for his own bedroom. She hardly stirred when he put her on the soft  
mattress and pulled the covers over her small frame.

Closing the door behind him, Bryan made his way to the kitchen, removing his  
gun from his holster and placing it on the table before reaching into a combat  
and extracting a half filled bottle of scotch. Pouring himself a glass, Bryan  
took his drink to the armchair and lowered himself into it, nursing it in his  
palm as he tried to decide what he would do next. Even the sip of the smooth  
spirit in his throat did not assuage the worried thoughts running through his  
head or make what he had seen any less believable. 

He knew what he had seen and Fred's words to him in the car had proved he  
was not insane, unless it was the kind of insanity that was contagious. She had  
seen it too and what was more, she seemed to have a better idea of what they  
were facing then he did, although she was in no position to explain it to him  
with any clarity. He kept thinking of David Saeran, of the chase that had taken  
up the better part of two years of his life, the chase that had now taken this  
very unexpected turn. For the first time in his life, Bryan was not in control  
of his situation and had no idea what to do.

He could not say he liked it very much.

Making certain that the door to his bedroom was closed; Bryan turned on the  
television set and searched the channels until he found an early morning news  
report. Turning the volume down low, the MI6 agent waited patiently as Susan  
Bookbinder began reading the morning news. The initial reports were of world  
events and the political brush fires around the globe that seemed to be  
escalating these days, to which Bryan paid little attention because the media  
seldom had any real idea of what was actually going on. It was only when the  
report of a double homicide in Cardiff was made that he sat up and pay  
attention.

The street that only a few hours ago had been the scene of so much bloodshed  
and gunfire was now overrun with police and ambulances. Obviously the footage  
was taken immediately after the discovery of the bodies and long after Bryan  
and Fred had made good their escape. Bodies were being wheeled out of the home  
that Fred had lived all her life, covered in blood soak sheets with forensics  
people trying to flee the prying eyes of the media. Neighbors were out in  
force; some still in their robes, watching the unfolding drama without the  
slightest inkling of what had caused this terrible tragedy. 

Susan Bookbinder was now announcing the authorities deepening concerns  
regarding the fate of the youngest member of the Bailey household, little  
Frederica Bailey whose body was not counted among the dead. The execution style  
murder of her parents indicated underworld links but the disappearance of the  
child led to a more sinister conclusion that she had been the victim of child  
molester turned murderer. Bryan listened to the possible theories and flinched  
when he was treated to a picture of the little girl from happier times. She was  
wearing what appeared to be a fairy costume; complete with wings, tiara and a  
bright, cheery smile that made her appear almost a completely different person  
from the sleeping waif in the blood stained clothes.

Bryan watched the entire telecast even though after the story about the  
Bailey’s murder, he had ceased to pay attention to anything else and was merely  
reflecting amidst the background noise of Susan Bookbinder’s voice. He knew he  
was in way over his head but had no idea how to let this cup pass now that it  
had rested solely before him. He was an MI6 agent accustomed to dealing with  
threats he could see, enemies that threatened queen and country, foreign powers  
or a right wing fanatics who could not express their opinion with any other  
means but violence. He did not know what he was up against and seeing a preview  
of it in the crimson eyes of the formless things he had fought tonight, told  
him that he was outmatched and completely out of his league. Still, he had told  
Fred that he would protect her and that much Bryan was determined to honor. He  
did not know why but every fiber of his being would not allow anything to harm  
the child. 

So that left him with the only one recourse and it was an alternative he  
would have preferred not to take. Unfortunately, he had no choice. It was this  
way or not at all. 

Reaching into the folds of his dark coat, Bryan produced his cell phone and  
pressed the speed dial code for the one person he had no wish to contact. The  
connection was made almost immediately, the ringing lasting no more than a few  
seconds. Outside, the sun had started to appear over the skyline of the city  
and morning would soon be upon him. He sucked in his breath and hope he would  
have a career by the time he hung up the call. Hopefully, the issue of David  
Saeran and the murder he had ordered would take precedence over his illegal  
activities. 

"Caldwell," the familiar taut voice of his supervisor said firmly.  
There was no sound of grogginess in his voice or any indication that he had  
been rudely awakened. Knowing the old boy, Bryan suspected he was already up  
with the crows getting ready for the day. 

"Sir, its Bryan," he announced himself rather contritely. 

"Bryan, do you know what time it is?" Caldwell asked  
automatically.

"I know Sir," Bryan nodded. 

"Aren’t you supposed to be on leave?" the man inquired inevitably.

"I was but something has come up," Bryan offered reluctantly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Caldwell responded,  
"that something had better not be David Saeran."

"I’m afraid it is," Bryan replied and then quickly added more  
before Caldwell could embark upon a tirade at his insubordination and how much  
trouble he was in. "But Sir, I have proof that Saeran ordered a killing  
tonight."

"What?" Caldwell’ inevitable exclamation followed. "What do  
you mean?"

"I overheard him ordering his men to kidnap someone in Cardiff, with  
further orders to kill all witnesses," Bryan explained, guessing before  
hand what Caldwell’s next question would be.

"How did you overhear this?" 

Bryan explained and winced when he heard Caldwell’s enraged response over  
the cell phone. The MI6 agent held the cell phone away from his ear as Caldwell  
vented the full measure of his outrage at Bryan’s insubordination, not to  
mention, his disregard of orders.

"You placed an illegal wire tap on one of the most powerful men in this  
country?" Caldwell declared. "What were you thinking? Aside from it  
being a complete invasion of privacy, you’ve misappropriated Firm equipment and  
illegally operated on British soil! Have you lost your mind?"

"But I was right!" Bryan insisted and continued to explain how he  
had driven to Cardiff and intercepted the killers before they could hurt Fred.  
Of course he omitted the fact that Saeran’s agents were wraithlike creatures  
with crimson points for eyes that could not be killed. Bryan did not think  
Caldwell was ready for _that_ much disclosure. 

"Where is the girl now?" Caldwell asked once Bryan had concluded  
his tale.

"She’s with me," Bryan volunteered. "Poor thing has a bad  
time of it Sir. She saw everything."

"Well if the police are treating it as a kidnapping, we’ll let them  
continue to do so until we can produce more proof that an illegal surveillance  
tap of Saeran’s complicity," Caldwell said tersely, clearly unhappy at the  
situation, Bryan’s insubordination not withstanding. 

"What about the girl, Sir?" Bryan asked. "She saw everything.  
They will be after her."

Caldwell did not speak for a moment as he considered the matter. Bryan  
sincerely hoped that Caldwell would not tell him to release her into the  
authority of some stranger or worse yet, Scotland Yard. Bryan did not know when  
his responsibility for this child had become such priority but he knew that he  
was unwilling to relinquish it after making the promise he would protect her.  
For reasons, he could not even begin to explain, the oath he made to her had  
value and he would not break it for anything.

"Stay put for the moment," Caldwell broke his silence after long  
last. "Until we figure this out, don’t do anything else. I will call when  
I have an answer for you."

"Alright," Bryan answered, feeling a swell of relief coursing  
through his being at the knowledge that he was given official sanction to  
remain Fred’s protector for the time being. "I’ll wait for your call and  
Sir, thank you."

"Don’t thank me yet," the old man returned sharply. "If the  
Tower of London was still doing business, I’d have you under the block in a  
second. Don’t ever pull this rubbish again. When I give you an order, I expect  
it to be obeyed. You work for her majesty’s government, not your own personal  
agendas."

"Yes Sir," Bryan frowned, properly admonished.

With that Caldwell terminated the call and Bryan looked at the phone in his  
hand before deciding he needed another drink.

Damn, he hated waiting.

****************

Caldwell drew in a deep breath, wondering why he was at all surprised by  
Bryan Miller’s call. 

A better man in the service could not be found in Caldwell’s opinion but  
Bryan had a streak of recklessness in him that could cause a great deal of  
grief if left unchecked, like now. He had honestly believed his warnings to the  
younger man would be heeded. After all, Bryan was ex Royal Marines and knew how  
to obey orders even if it went against the grain of every instinct in him.  
However, not even Caldwell had suspected the extent of his tenaciousness when  
it came to the business of Malcolm Industries and in particular, the Black  
Serpent organization. From the moment Bryan had been led down that dark path,  
he had been trapped by the mystery of it and bound to follow the investigation  
no matter where it led. Even the destruction of the Malcolm Building had not  
changed his belief that somehow the conglomerate was linked to Black Serpent.

Caldwell had tried to deter him in every way possible but Bryan was obdurate  
about discovering the truth and his stubbornness had led both himself and  
Caldwell on a collision course that neither could escape. Whatever happened  
now, was out of Caldwell’s hands. He had done everything to avoid coming to  
this situation that he now found him as firmly entrenched as Bryan Miller.  
Reaching for the phone on the desk in his private study, Caldwell dialed a  
number that was committed to memory. He dared not risk having it on his speed  
dial or written amongst any of his personal numbers. 

Three rings echoed through the room in electronic tones before the call was  
answered and Caldwell stiffened involuntarily when he heard the voice speak.

"Isn’t this rather early for you Richard?" David Saeran’s voice  
asked smoothly through the intercom on Caldwell’s desk.

"I have news," Caldwell said abruptly, having no wish for this  
call to continue any longer than necessary. 

There was a slight pause before Saeran spoke, "tell me."

"I am afraid I was wrong about Bryan," the MI6 supervisor  
responded, swallowing thickly. "He didn’t drop the investigation as I  
ordered. In fact he has had you under surveillance for the past week."

Another notable pause was heard and Caldwell felt a cold chill running down  
his spine as he awaited Saeran’s reply. 

"I gather it was he who interfered with my business in Cardiff?"  
Saeran asked coldly.

"Yes, it was," Caldwell answered, hating to be the bearer of that  
particular bit of news. "He saw everything and he has the girl."

"John Malcolm had a great deal of confidence in you Caldwell,"  
Saeran replied automatically, almost as if he had not heard Caldwell’s last  
statement. "He bought and paid for your services for almost twenty years  
and it has been a lucrative arrangement until now. You kept British  
intelligence away from Malcolm Industries and Black Serpent and he gave you all  
the political and financial support you needed. Bryan Miller comes under that  
arrangement and while Malcolm isn’t here to stress his disappointment, I won’t  
stand on ceremony. Frankly, I find your kind difficult to control and to  
unreliable when the situation warrants it. My people were handling this matter  
quite efficiently until you failed to keep up your end of our arrangement. Just  
because Malcolm is dead does not mean I am any less forgiving when you fail me,  
so unless you give me a very compelling reason I will be forced to terminate  
your services. You may take that as literally as you wish because I certainly  
will."

Caldwell knew the threat was not an idle one and if he wanted to see the  
next sunrise he had better give Saeran exactly what he demanded; Bryan Miller. 

With no other way out of the cage he had placed himself twenty years ago,  
Richard Caldwell exhaled deeply and gave Saeran the answer he needed to save  
himself, though he was certain he was already damned. 

"I know where Bryan is."

 


	5. Chapter Four: Old Girlfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

When Bryan was still with the Royal Marines, he had been taught to sleep with one eye open. 

  


This was of particular advantage whilst one was in the midst of enemy territory, where it was necessary to take a few hours rest during missions. It was imperative that all soldiers embarking on such hazardous duty knew how to remain in a state of semi-alertness even while in slumber to avoid being captured unawares. This part of Bryan's training in the SAS had followed him into his career at MI6 and there were more occasions than he could count when this ability had saved his life. It was just as well anyway, Bryan thought because when he slept deeply, he was plagued by uneasy dreams and Bryan was person who could tolerate helplessness even when it came to his own psyche.

  


The dreams were not unpleasant, just unsettling. Most of the time he could not remember them and when he did, it was filled with the sensation that he had to strive to succeed, as if he had something to prove. It was a characteristic of his personality that followed him most of his life, in school, in university and ultimately his career. The desire to complete everything he started had taken precedence over every other aspects of his life and had a good deal to do with why he was approaching his forties and had never possessed anything closely resembling a steady relationship. 

  


Bryan had no regrets however. There had been women in his life but he never felt obliged to stay any longer than necessary and they certainly could not compete with his goals when he was driven to a purpose. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would most likely be killed in the service of her majesty's government and that suited him well enough. He had been present at too many funerals and seen too many wives weeping over husbands lost in the service of their country to stomach wishing the same fate upon someone he really cared about when the inevitable came to pass. When he died, the only one who would truly miss him was his brother, Frank. Bryan hardly knew his nephew and niece and his sister-in-law Miranda, considered him family but still thought he was a bastard.

  


It was strange how quickly women formed _that_ opinion about him.

  


Bryan was in a light sleep, having drifted there shortly after his call to Caldwell and following his second glass of scotch. It had been a little after dawn when he had finally succumbed to the exhaustion of being awake for almost 48 hours straight. In that time, he had kept up the surveillance of Saeran's estate, he had raced frantically to Cardiff, rescued Fred from Saeran's 'men', he did not know what else to call them at this point and before finally returning here to his home in London. Fortunately, his training refused to let him completely lose himself in slumber and when he heard soft footsteps approaching the sofa where he lay, Bryan's sleeping senses were already climbing out of their repose to full alertness.

  


He blinked his eyes open just as she reached him and Bryan was treated to the sight of the little girl looking down at him with an expression of deep worry across her face. Her fear immediately put Bryan on guard and he sat up automatically on his makeshift bed, his eyes searching for his gun, which he had placed on the floor next to the sofa when he had taken his rest.

  


"What is it?" He asked.

  


Fred swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced out the nearest window of the four storey flat before answering him. "They're coming."

  


"What do you mean they're coming?" Bryan stared at her in disbelief. 

  


"They're coming," she looked at him with a steady gaze. "I know it."

  


"Fred," Bryan rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and focussed on her again with a little more clarity. "Even if they are searching for you, nobody knows you're here."

  


All this sounded perfectly reasonable when Bryan explained it to her but Fred stared at him appearing wholly unconvinced. If anything, his explanation only served to fire her own stubbornness that she was right and while Bryan did not know it yet, his own determination paled in comparison to the iron will within this child when her mind was set. 

  


"They're coming," she insisted and grabbed his hand, the one not holding the gun and began tugging him off the bed. 

  


Bryan allowed himself to be led though he was certain that her belief of danger was generated by a nightmare or something similar because there was no way anyone could know she was here. She was probably too young for women's intuition but decided that he would indulge her now that he was awake. Following her to the window with scepticism, Bryan wondered how in the world he had come to be in this position where a six year old was suddenly calling the shots in his life. Usually gruff when he was awakened out of a much-needed sleep, the MI6 agent wondered why this was not included in the recruitment brochures. It would certainly shoot the holes in the misconception that MI6 agents lived like James Bond even if his choice of gun was a Walther PPK.

  


For someone who had not been in his flat for more than a few hours, Fred seemed to know where she was going and led him to the window on the far side of the living room, the one that overlooked the parking area for visitors. Bryan was about to repeat another condescending statement that she had dreamed this illusion of terror when suddenly, all his doubts and his scepticism was washed away by the sight of two black cars pulling to the side of the kerb. It may have been dark and his glimpse of them brief, but there was no mistaking the cars that had been parked outside the Bailey when Fred's parents had been murdered.

  


The men that emerged from the vehicle were not the creatures he had seen last night. However, it was little comfort to him because he knew without doubt that these were Saeran’s men. They were clad in long dark coats whose only purpose could be to hide their guns and with sunglasses that would make them appear nondescript to the casual bystander. Their first action upon climbing out of their cars was to raise their gaze toward his building. The leader of them, a big Polynesian who appeared as if he might have stepped out of a wrestling arena, barked orders Bryan was unable to here. Still despite the inaudible words, Bryan recognized the instinctive pat the men made over certain parts of their person, to be exact over their coats, an indication that they were armed and ready.

  


Two cars, Bryan thought in the millisecond that it took for him to assess his situation. Two cars that carried seven armed men, who were striding briskly towards the walkway that led to the main foyer of his building. Thoughts on how they found him would wait as he hurried away from the window and went to retrieve his gun and his cell phone in good order. They had minutes if that to get out of here before those men arrived. Bryan intended that neither he or Fred would be here when that happened.

  


"I hate it when you’re right," Bryan grumbled offhandedly as she watched him hurry across the living room after fetching his gun, to a sideboard with many drawers. Bryan reached for his keys on top of it and unlocked the top drawer. He kept this drawer locked for the reason in order not to frighten the housekeeper that cleaned his flat thrice a week. Besides, he was not comfortable about leaving bullets scattered about, not when most of his neighbors had no idea what he did for a living. Most of them thought he was an IT salesman. 

  


"We have to go now," Fred declared insistently, as her gaze shifted intermittently between him and the window. 

  


"Trust me, that’s foremost in my mind as well," Bryan retorted, pulling the drawer open and removing the two boxes of ammunition inside it. "But we’re not going to get very far if I don’t do this first."

  


"If they find us, we won’t go anywhere at all!" Fred reminded and drew a look from Bryan, who was now crossing the floor again, this time his destination appeared to be a pot plant whose state of health was borderline at best.

  


"You’re too young to learn how to nag," Bryan retorted as he took hold of the stem of the plant and lifted it out of its pot, trailing clumps of dirt as he tossed it aside. 

  


"What are you doing?" She asked, too young to be able to take offense at his earlier statement.

  


Bryan reached into the pot and produced a small metal box that looked like it might have been a biscuit tin of some description. It was no bigger than a breadbox and its hiding place had left it covered in dirt. However, this did not seem to bother Brian at all who upon acquiring this odd item, grabbed his coat and Fred in quick succession before running out of the apartment. He did not bother locking it behind because he was certain his impending visitors would not be stopped by a locked door if they were intent on finding them both. Emerging into the corridor outside his flat, he glanced briefly at the lift and saw the indicator lights of the floors glowing progressively towards their level. 

  


"Its going to be the stairs then," he replied as they hurried to the fire stairs, while he loaded his gun with a fresh magazine of bullets. 

  


"What if they’re there too?" Fred asked anxiously, her face filled with obvious fear. 

  


"We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it," Bryan said shortly as he pulled open the door to the fire stairs which in deference to the rest of the building was unpainted and displayed exposed concrete. 

  


Unfortunately, that bridge came sooner than Bryan would like because this time Saeran’s men were not taking any chances in losing their prey. He could hear footsteps echoing from lower down the stairs and knew that the enemy was covering all their possible avenues of escape. Bryan took hold of Fred’s hand and quickly raced up the stairs towards the roof. He placed a finger on his lip to signal quiet as there was no reason to let the men pursuing them know their ultimate destination even if their footsteps could be heard during their ascent. She nodded quickly, coming to the conclusion that this man whom she could not be entirely certain about yes was determined to protect her and appeared quite capable of it as well.

  


As soon as the sound of their running feet filtered to the lower levels of the staircase, Bryan heard voices crying out excitedly that he and Fred were discovered. He paid little attention to this and picked up Fred so that they could make better progress up the staircase. Sensibly Fred liberated the metal box from him in a wordless agreement so that he could carry her better as he ran up the stairs to the roof exit which was now in sight. Bryan was not all burdened with the extra weight. In the SAS, there had been times when he had been dropped into places where he was required to carry his own weight in gear. He made it to the top of the stairs easily and was grateful when he found it unlocked. Their pursuers’ footsteps were even louder than before and their pace definitely faster now that they knew what Bryan was up to. 

  


Stepping onto the roof of the building. Bryan looked around for something to barricade the fire exit. The roof level of the building had been the venue for one of his neighbors horticultural activities, complete with mini greenhouse When he spotted a shovel lying outside the plastic sheeting that made up the frames of Mr. Stephens project, Bryan immediately braced it against the door. It was not much of a deterrent but valuable seconds in instances like this was all that bridged the difference between life and death. 

  


"Where are we going to go?" Fred looked to him in question, her eyes having scoured the roof and discovering to her dismay that there really was nowhere else to go once the bad men reached the door.

  


Bryan hurried to the nearest edge and let his eyes sweep over the roofs of the adjoining buildings. It was a quite a long drop to the ground but they were not so high that the wind was lashing at them with any strength. If anything, the most this lofty height could manage was a slight breeze. In the street below, he could see in the street below and knew that reaching his car would be difficult. Two men were guarding it and he was certain that he heard two voices coming up the stairs behind them. That left three who were probably discovering at this moment that there was no one at his apartment. If they could reach his car, then there was chance of escape. All it required was being able to get to it from this roof. 

  


He measured distances they would need to traverse swiftly in his head and came to a decision wordlessly. Fred was staring at the door, waiting for the inevitable sound of men trying to break through. He went to her and picked her up once more, wondering if he should tell her. Probably not, he decided. Best to do it when there was minimum chance of her panicking. If he was wrong, they would be too dead too worry about it in any case. 

  


"Where are we going?" She asked as he neared the edge of the building and looked across at the next. 

  


The gap between them was eight to ten feet. A good distance but not impossible. Bryan retreated in his steps as he heard the first pounding against the roof door. Taking a deep breath he began a short sprint towards the building’s edge. Fred’s eyes widened as she realized what he intended to do and without even needing to hear him say it, wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck. The box was crushed between the two of them as he jumped and there was a rush of sound and the feeling of being airborne for a few seconds that almost caused the girl to squeal, but she did not. Instead, she buried her face deeper into his chest so that she did not have to look.

  


Bryan hit the other side of the gap and rolled across the floor. When he knew he was going to fall, folded his arms around the bundle in his arms and tried to protect her as best as he could. They rolled together for a few feet, before coming to a halt. There was no time to pause or even inquire if she was alright because if he could cross that distance with a child in his arms, their pursuers could do the same and with far less effort. Instead he secured his hold of her and ran to the door leading into the building. It was locked but that was not much of a deterrent to Bryan who promptly kicked it open, splintering wood and scrapping metal in a loud crack.

  


It was only when they were hidden temporarily inside the building, it Bryan let her down so that he could see her state. 

  


"Are you alright?" He asked her concerned, noting that she was shaking a little.

  


"Yes," she nodded fearfully, her expression and the pout of her lips indicating she was trying hard not to cry. "I’m okay. I didn’t drop the box." She added, showing him her diligence at being able to keep it on her person after their death-defying stunt.

  


"That’s a brave girl," he winked at her in pride and ruffled her hair affectionately before taking her hand again. 

  


They made their way swiftly down the fire stairs of this new building and did not hear any one in pursuit, which did little to allay Bryan’s fears because at least when they were following, he knew where they were. The silence made him wonder if they were not thinking up alternative ways to cut off his and Fred’s escape route. Deciding to take the fire exit out of the building instead of making it out through the main doors, their route to escape came after a few minutes. Bryan told Fred to remain behind him as he opened the door quietly and emerged first. The setting of the door made it difficult for him to gain a clear view of what was waiting for him outside, so his gun appeared before he did. 

  


Bryan had no sooner emerged bodily when a foot kicked his hand and forced him to drop the weapon. He tried to usher a warning to Fred when he saw a fist flying at him. He counted two men and faced first the one who had disarmed him while his other companion went after Fred. 

  


"RUN!" Bryan ordered her as he caught the fist coming at him and swung hard with one of his own. 

  


Bryan did not miss and promptly threw a fist in his face and did not miss. Knuckle connected with jaw, momentarily disorientating his opponent and giving him time enough to close in for the kill. Without thinking twice, Bryan had his opponent’s head in his hands and twisted viciously, his success signaled the awful sound of bone crunching. The man went limp almost immediately and Aaron shoved him hard at the second man who had been trying to shoot him during the struggle. The body slammed hard into him, causing the enemy’s aim to waver and giving Bryan enough the advantage he needed to disarm him. 

  


Saeran’s agent pushed away his comrade’s body only to be confronted by Bryan who kicked the gun out of his hand in a powerful front kick. Using its momentum, Bryan swung around and delivered another blow to the man’s sternum. As his enemy stumbled to the floor, Bryan dove towards his gun. Rolling over neatly, Bryan grasped the butt of his weapon and took aim at the same time the third gunmen discovered that his opponent had retreated. They were running out of time and Bryan did not want to waste more or it or his ammunition and promptly fired one shot. A good marksman only needed one shot in Bryan’s opinion and when the bullet slammed into the gunmen’s skull, it appeared that he had chosen the right one. 

  


He did not have time to relish his victory because he heard Fred screaming. He had been so busy fighting the enemy, he had not even considered the fate of his young charge after telling her to run. With something akin to panic, Bryan sought out the source of the scream and found it not far away from him. The man who had managed to grab Fred was having a great deal of trouble hanging onto the child who was kicking like a hellion. For a six-year-old, Bryan was quite impressed by the struggle she was putting up. 

  


"Let her go!" He shouted at the would be abductor.

  


"I don’t think so," the kidnapper declared defiantly when suddenly Fred utilized the only weapon at the disposal of a six-year-old child. She sunk her teeth into the hand holding the gun with all the strength she could muster. The man cried out in pain and dropped her. No sooner than Fred had touched the ground, Bryan had let loose another series of shots, these were decidedly lacking in the finesse of the other but no less lethal. The sounds of exploding gunfire made Fred cover her ears in fright and even after the man had fallen down in a heap, was she still huddled close with her knees beneath her chin, trembling.

  


"Fred!" Bryan ran to her, fearful that the whole scene might have been too much for her, especially when two of his opponents were bleeding like stuck pigs. "Are you alright?" 

  


"Yes," she nodded and hugged him immediately, clinging to him with dear life because he was the only one in the world who could keep her safe from the darkness that was pursuing her. "Are you okay?" she stammered.

  


"Take more than them to do me in," he said touched by the tears of relief he saw in her eyes at his answer and offered her a wry smile of encouragement. "Come on, we have to keep moving."

  


"Your box!" She cried out and displayed the astounding resilience of children as she wiped her eyes and hurried to the metal box she had dropped during the struggle. 

  


  
  
Bryan took her hand once she had in her grip and decided that the idea of retrieving his car would have to wait. The best thing to do now was to get away from here while they still could. He could decide what to do once he had a moment to think and question whether or not it was Caldwell who had given him up. 

  


*************

  


  
  
After more than 24 hours driving from one from one end of Britain to the other, Aaron was certain that if they did not stop soon, the elves were going to do serious injury to themselves, to each other or anyone else unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity. He could not blame either for their irritable mood, after all elves were wholly unaccustomed to traveling in closed confines for such an extended period of time, even if it was inside a car. Despite the frequent breaks along the way, it was still a long journey and despite Aaron and Eve sharing the driving duties, Aaron could not deny that he was grateful when he saw the London skyline in the distance. 

  


Their trek across country had transpired without incident after Eve learnt which side of the road she ought to be driving. The journey had taken them through the splendor of the Scottish Highland and across Loch Ness. The interval between large towns had also given the elves time to become acclimated to the metropolis that would overwhelm them undoubtedly when they arrived at London. The smaller cities of Perth, Dundee heightened their awareness of being in the modern world, though they did not stay long in Glasgow and took the easterly course at Penrith so that they could avoid Manchester and the many satellite cities in close proximity around it. 

  


The elves thought that the area of Nottingham felt familiar and it was Gandalf who revealed that the Old Woods beyond the Shire had left some remnants of itself in Sherwood. Many elves had taken the paths through the forest when journeying to the Havens and it was Haldir who thought that he felt some remnant of that passage for he and Celeborn had once made the crossing. Haldir was very unimpressed at the current state of those magnificent woods and though some of it still remained, most of it had been trampled under the heavy machinery of progress. It was hard on them, seeing the world so changed, remembering the friends left behind, the ones whose homes they were now moving through, with no trace left behind to mark their existence except in the memory of the immortals.

  


After Nottingham, the distance to London grew considerably short and a stop at a telephone booth, provided Aaron with the information he needed to know Tory’s current address. Tory who was a lawyer, lived in a rather up market part of town and was not home when Aaron called to let her know that they were coming. Fortunately, it was still early in the day when he had made his call and knew that by the time they actually arrived at her address, it would be well into evening. 

  


He had last spoken to Tory after the business with the Malcolm Building, omitting that he had any complicity in its destruction. Instead, he called to explain why the news of Stuart’s death had not come from him. He had cited his recent unemployment, the reason for his lapse and Tory was a good enough friend not to blame him for his lapse. He wondered how she would take seeing him after almost a year’s absence. She was one of the few people he considered family and knew that she would have been concerned. For his sake as well as her own, Aaron had thought it best that she did not know anything about why he was running and hoped that when he explained himself now, she would understand.

  


"This place reminds me of Baradur," Haldir remarked as they drove towards Tory’s house in Hillingdon in the semi-quiet streets. It was well past the evening rush of traffic and as night settled upon the city, the frantic activity of the day had given way to a more sedate atmosphere. There were people up and about but their pace was decidedly languid and in the night, with a myriad of lights scattered across the darkened skyline, London had its own beauty. 

  


"Baradur?" Aaron stared at him. 

  


"Sauron’s capital in the Second and Third Age," Legolas said helpfully.

  


"The guy with the ring?" Eve asked, looking over the edges of the street directory they had bought to find Tory address. 

  


  
  
"The same," Gandalf replied with a smile, finding it amusing how these modern people understated everything. 

  


"Oh London’s not that bad," Aaron defended the city which he always found charming because of its Old World quality. "I mean sure, its not Tirion or Aqualonde but it’s got its own charm. This has been the center of the civilized world for almost a thousand years."

  


"Yeah, if we weren’t here to stop a terrible evil from decimating the entire planet, I’d be off sight seeing in a second. I want to see Buckingham Palace and check out the Tower of London. Now that’s a place that took its law enforcement seriously," she remarked mischievously, earning an affection smile from Aaron.

  


"So much is covered in steel and stone," Haldir replied finding it all very disconcerting that he could not see trees and open spaces. His eye caught sight of her a buxom blond walking her dog down the sidewalk clad in very little and wondered how these people could function with such impractical attire at times. To him, the modern world was a grimy place with garish lights and too much reliance on technology. "Its no wonder this world is on the brink of destruction when all reverence to life has been forgotten."

  


"Do not be so quick to judge it Haldir," Legolas said seriously. "There is great courage here too." He replied staring at Aaron and Eve as he stated those words. "If not, Morgoth would still walk the earth."

  


"Aaron," Gandalf spoke up as the Ford took a turn up a tree-lined street. "How do you think your friend will receive us?"

  


"Tory’s okay," Aaron replied. "She may have a thousand questions before the night is over but I trust her."

  


Eve cast Aaron a short glance and felt an involuntary pang of jealousy when wondering exactly what was the nature of Aaron’s relationship with Stuart’s ex wife. He seemed to think that she could be trusted with his life and wondered what supported such faith. However, as soon as the thought crossed her mind, Eve brushed it aside because she trusted Aaron and took comfort in the fact that he had loved her all his life and even before it. There was something comforting about knowing that they were destined to be together because it had always been that way.

  


"Well, its look like you better get ready to answer them because we’re here," Eve remarked upon arriving at their destination. 

  


Tory’s home was a two story, detached house that was one of many on a single block, preceded by a row of trees along the sidewalk. It did not take long for Aaron to discern which one was Tory’s and judging by the lights, the lady was home already. 

  


"Okay, you’re up." Eve replied once the car had come to a halt outside the curb.

  


Aaron nodded somberly as he climbed out of the car. What he was about to tell Tory would change everything she knew about the world and yet there was never a question about not telling her because she was his friend and if life was to be placed in jeopardy because of him, she deserved to know why. He hoped that Tory would believe that he was not insane, that he seen what seen since the day Gandalf had become his patient. He hoped she would understand.

  


Hell knows, in her position, he wouldn’t.

  


*************

  


Victoria Harding was having a bad day.

  


It started off with an appointment with a client whose odiousness was so apparent that she almost wished that it was possible to ignore the fact that everyone should be considered innocent until proven otherwise. The man was charged with a variety of offenses, relating from prostitution to extortion. In legal fees alone, he could pay for the mortgage on her house. There had been a moment when she had almost been tempted to take the case, to see that the vermin’s legal rights were defended so that he could be unleashed upon society once again. However, Tory preferred being able to sleep at night and though it was not a practice encouraged by her colleagues, found that to achieve this peace required her to do the unthinkable at times, refusing clients that offended even her sensibilities.

  


Even the ones who could pay the mortgage on her house.

  


After he had sleazed out of her office, she had found herself lost in paperwork, held up by continuances and deposing witnesses whose stories changed from one second to the next. By the time she staggered out of her office after dark, Tory was really starting to think that perhaps it was best if she gave up law and went to a secluded island to take up basket weaving for a living. It was certainly a good deal more peaceful. Tory’s practice was established enough for her to make that choice. In her mid thirties, Tory had worked as barrister for the crown until establishing her own law practice. She dealt mostly in criminal law but was known to take on the odd _pro bono_ case when her interest was sparked. 

  


She had been married once, to the most inoffensive American she had ever met but divorced five years later because they could not offer a civil word to each other without breaking into an argument a minute later. At thirty-five, she was still an attractive woman with dark red hair and emerald colored eyes that apparently earned her the reputation as the stereotypical fiery red head. She could have remarried if she liked but the truth was, Tory liked her independence and found that marriage had only produced in her the desire to be single again.

  


After walking through the front door of her house, she had dumped her briefcase on the sofa, kicked off her shoes and tossed away her suit coat. In a final act of rebellion, she untucked her blouse and loosened her collar. There was something delightfully satisfying about prowling her own house still clad in nylons and work clothes (suitably ruffled of course) before placing herself in front of the telly, eating ice cream with a spoon straight from the carton it came in.

  


She was in the middle of another guilty pleasure, an episode of Ally McBeal, when she heard a knock on the door. Muttering lightly to herself in displeasure at being bothered by unannounced visitors, who was most likely her next door neighbor Mrs. Draper dropping in for a bit of inane gossip, Tory considered the briefly the notion of making herself look a little more respectable before she answered the door. However, she soon abandoned the idea in the hopes her appearance might impart to Mrs. Draper she did not wish visitors right now.

  


  
  
She was still nurturing this fervent hope when she pulled open the door and found herself staring at a ghost.

  


"Aaron!" She gasped, genuinely astonished by the sight of him.

  


"Hey Tor," Aaron grinned, surprising himself by how glad he was to see her after all this time. 

  


The two friends came together in a warm embrace before Tory pulled away and looked at the psychiatrist, she had spent a great deal of expense and effort trying to locate over the past year. She had given up hope of ever seeing her old friend again and was still reeling from the fact that was suddenly here on the doorstep. It was almost surreal.

  


"Where have you been?" Tory demanded staring at Aaron. "I’ve been trying like hell to find you! Aaron where have you been the last twelve months?"

  


She fired another rapid series of questions at him, one after the other, giving him little chance to respond to any before he was forced to stop her before she buried him in them. He could not blame her for her desire to know his whereabouts the past year. She was the closest thing he had to a sister and though she lived an ocean away, he supposed he should have let her know that he was dropping out of sight before he actually did. 

  


"Tory, can we talk inside please?" He asked. 

  


"Of course," she replied still rather shaken as she withdrew from the foyer into the living room, expecting him to follow her.

  


Aaron followed her in after closing the door behind him, noticing that she was somewhat dazed by his sudden appearance on her doorstep and could not blame her for her reaction. After all, he had disappeared and reappeared in her life without so much as a word and their relationship after her divorce with Stuart had been one of deep friendship, even though it had never been more than that. Both were too comfortable with each other as friends to ever change the dynamic with anything as inconvenient as a romantic liaison. Aaron pondered what he would say to her once they were able to talk. How was she going to react when he told her about Valinor?

  


Tory was waiting for him when he entered the living room and was about to open his mouth to speak when she came at him and struck his squarely across the jaw. He staggered a little, almost losing his balance but the blow did not surprise him. In fact, he was rather amazed that it had not come sooner than this. 

  


"Where the bloody hell have you been?" She demanded angrily. "Do you have any idea what I have been through the last twelve months? You disappeared without a trace. First Stuart is killed and then you disappear? The police were no help at all and I was starting to think that there was a reason why they were being such indifferent bastards. I even hired a private investigator to find you and he traced you as far as Point Pleasant and then nothing! Do you know what that was like? To lose both my friends at once?"

  


"I’m sorry Tor," Aaron apologized once more and hugged her again to show her that he was sincere. "I should have let you know that I was going but I couldn’t, I didn’t want you to involve in the mess I was in."

  


"Mess," she dried the tears that had come from a mixture of anger and happiness to see him. "What bloody mess are you talking about? Being fired?"

  


"No," Aaron shook his head and supposed that the best way to approach this was to simply tell her the truth, that was the basis of their friendship and there was no reason to change that now. "The Malcolm Building."

  


"The Malcolm Building?" Her eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"

  


"I was there the day it exploded," Aaron confessed.

  


"Did you have anything to do with it?" She asked, suddenly feeling the need to sit down. 

  


"Yes and no," Aaron replied honestly. "I know why it was destroyed but I didn’t do it."

  


"Care to enlighten me?" She looked at him.

  


"I would but its not anything you’re going to accept," Aaron said gingerly, truly believing it. 

  


"I’m a barrister Aaron," Tory retorted. "You would be surprised of what I am able to accept."

  


Aaron took a deep breath and supposed that if he was going to enlist her help in their quest, he would have to tell her whole truth. He began his tale at his first meeting with Gandalf and progressed to his meeting with Eve, the elves and their belief that he was the reincarnation of an ancient king, almost a hundred thousand years ago. Tory listened in silence, saying little in response and allowing him to continue without interruption as he explained how John Malcolm was actually a dark lord named Melkor and had how he had been destroyed by the power of the Ainur and the Great Music. 

  


When he had finally finished, Tory did not speak and appeared as if she was digesting everything he had said to her. A few minutes had ticked by and despite being a psychiatrist, Aaron could not for the life of him predict what her reaction would be. How would he react after being confronted with such a fantastic tale? Would she think him insane? 

  


"Aaron, you need help," Tory declared and confirmed Aaron’s suspicion.

  


"I"m not crazy Tor," Aaron exhaled, disappointed by her response but not in the least bit shocked by it. "I saw it all and I’ve been to Valinor. I’ve seen where they come from and it’s as real as you and I standing here."

  


"Aaron, it’s insane!" Tory retorted unable to accept such a fantastic tale because that’s what it was. Fantastic. "You’re a psychiatrist. Surely you must know how you sound?"

  


"I know how I sound," he returned wearily, having prepared for this argument the moment he had decided to call on her for help when they arrived in London, "but I also know that everything I’ve told you is real. The clock is ticking Tor. Something is happening out here and if we don’t find out what, then a lot of people are going to die. Everything we know is going to end and Valinor will be al that’s left."

  


"Aaron..." Tory started to speak when suddenly the door knocked again. 

  


"Christ!" She swore in annoyance as she brushed past Aaron grumbling loudly. "If its that’s bloody Mrs. Draper about what the dog down the road did to her cat...."

  


  
  
Tory arrived at the door and pulled it open with enough force to make it swing backwards with more speed than she anticipated. Standing before her was a woman with three men she did not recognize. The woman at least appeared normal and strikingly attractive, while the men took a little more time to describe. The old man appeared as if he should be auditioning for role of Santa at any department store despite his overflowing beard being gray and his walking stick. The two younger men were either from California or gay. She discounted second possibility almost immediately because despite being exquisitely sculptured the both of them, gay men usually had a better sense of style when it came to clothing. These two were dressed like they had picked their clothes from a supermarket, especially with those ugly caps.

  


"Eve?" Aaron’s voice sailed over her shoulder before Tory could speak.

  


"You know these people?" Tory looked at him with accusation.

  


"We were starting to draw suspicion," Eve declared, tilting her head slightly so that she could see Aaron while speaking past Tory. "There’s some old lady out there staring at us as if we’re casing the neighborhood. If we didn’t come in, I think she was going to call the cops."

  


"That would be Mrs. Draper," Tory replied with a sigh and knew the woman was telling the truth. Mrs. Draper had a tendency to be somewhat paranoid about strangers in the neighborhood. Tory knew she was going to regret this but she could not leave the standing outside, especially if there were Aaron’s friends. 

  


Despite his incredible tale, Tory still cared a great deal for her ex-husband’s best friend. During the years when her marriage to Stuart was imploding, Aaron had been a loyal friend to both of them, offering advice not merely as a psychiatrist but also as someone who cared about them without being impartial to either. Even after its end, when she had been a wreck in the wake of the divorce, he had been there for her and never taken advantage of the situation, as many men might do if presented with the opportunity. For that she loved him dearly, not like a lover but as the brother she never had. If he said he was in trouble and needed her help, Tory would not deny him, no matter how insane his story sounded.

  


"You had better come in," she said widening her door so that the eclectic group could enter the premises.

  


"Thank you Tor," Aaron returned gratefully as Tory led her into the house.

  


"Don’t thank me just yet," Tory declared as she walked past him. "I still think you’re insane."

  


**********

  


 

  


The hotel clerk had given Bryan a sour look when he had rented the room in the company of a six year old girl. Fortunately, the nature of the establishment ensured that the man would remain discreet since most of the patrons preferred to remain anonymous. Located in the seedier part of London’s West End, Bryan had serious misgivings about finding accommodation in a place where most of the clientele were working girls and rooms were rented by the hour. However, he had little choice if he wanted to keep himself and Fred out of harms way. Besides, as rooms went, the hotel room was functional. It had a television, a sort of mini-bar and a relatively clean bed.

  


They had arrived here after a nightmarish trip through a department store where Bryan had been forced to wander through the children’s section with Fred wearing his coat to avoid exposing her bloodied nightgown. After a harrowing hour, he had completed the task of getting Fred some clothes and felt himself empathizing greatly with the masses of young fathers wandering the aisles, entrusted with the task of clothing their children. Fortunately, Fred had made the ordeal a little more tolerable when she addressed him as dad during the period that Bryan was forced to acquire the assistance of a salesgirl who was certain that he was a weekend father with no sense about anything.

  


After buying the child some suitable clothing, Bryan had fled from the supermarket deciding that if he ever decided to have children, there was going to be a wife dealing with matters such as this. Being a paratrooper was nowhere as daunting as trying to navigate through a shopping center. In any case, the little girl was now parked in front of the television set in her new jeans, T-shirt and sneakers, quite contently watching cartoons. Apparently something called the Powerpuff Girls had her undivided attention at present. For Bryan, his own attention was fixated on the box that he had been so careful to take with him when he left his apartment. 

  


  
  
Opening it, he began to inspect the contents, removing everything one after the other from within the confines of the metal case. Years ago, he had been advised by the agent training him that it was always wise to have a little added insurance in the event one needed to disappear. The nature of his business required him to undertake some rather questionable dealings and usually under the cloak of secrecy. Usually when someone lifted that rock and exposed this things to light, it was usually the agent carrying out the order that became the scapegoat. While it happened rarely, it still did happen and agents on his level usually had their own metal boxes, secreted somewhere safe for such an eventuality.

  


He fingered the thick wad of notes held together with a money clip and counted it quickly to see how fiscal he was. If Caldwell had been responsible for those men turning up at his apartment this morning, then he could no longer use his credit card because it was an easy matter for MI6 to trace him by his purchases. There was almost ten thousand pounds in legal tender in his hand and it was more than enough for him to lay low for a time, or at the very worse get as far away from here as possible. 

  


However having money was not enough to vanish completely and included with the cash was a new passport, driver’s license and even a credit card registered to the name of Michael Flannery. It was far simpler to vanish into thin air as someone else and the passport and driver’s license would ensure that he could leave the country if he ever felt the need to run. Bryan sincerely hoped he would not have to use any of these items but until he knew what they were up against exactly, he would prefer to keep the contents of the box close by. 

  


As Fred watched her cartoons, Bryan stared at his cell phone wondering if he ought to risk a telephone call to Caldwell, in order to give him a chance to explain. The idea that Caldwell who had been a trusted veteran of the Firm for as long as he knew, to be the source of the leak that had sent those hired killers to his home was beyond preposterous and understandably difficult to believe. However, Caldwell had told him to sit tight at home and was the only one who knew that Fred was with him. Bryan did not believe in coincidences and he knew how it felt to be given away. If Caldwell had not done it then someone was watching the MI6 supervisor closely and Bryan could not risk contacting him again.

  


He was contemplating this to great degree when suddenly, the cell phone in his hand started ringing, startling Fred and he to a lesser extent. The digital screen flashed the number of the incoming call and Bryan raised a brow at not recognizing it. Fred had turned around and was staring at him in anticipation, waiting to see if he would answer it or not. In truth, Bryan was trying to decide it himself and met her gaze. He could see the fear in her eyes and loathed placing her in another situation like the one she had been this morning. In the space of twenty four hours, the child had two attempts on his life and Bryan did not want to give someone the opportunity to make it three for three. 

  


"Are you going to answer it?" She asked softly.

  


"I think I should," he replied and saw her nodding in understanding, almost as if she was giving him permission to do so.

  


The cell phone continued to ring and possibly sounded more insistent, if such a thing was possible from an electronic device. Finally, Bryan accepted the call and held the phone to his ear, deciding that he would stop this foolishness. He had kept them alive so far and would continue to do so no matter who was on the other end. 

  


"Hello," he said cautiously.

  


"Bryan, is that you?" A decidedly American voice asked.

  


Bryan blinked, caught completely by surprise as he searched his memory as to who might be speaking and a name came to him almost immediately. "Robert?" 

  


Robert Stanley was his contact in CIA and one of his chief sources of information during the investigation into the destruction of the Malcolm Building, particularly on the subject of Doctor Aaron Stone. It had been months since he had heard from Roberts who had little to report after the CIA had thrown up their hands in defeat as to the present whereabouts of the good doctor. He and Robert had been friends from years back when they had worked together on an assignment. Since then, Robert had been one of his unofficial sources who filtered to him useful information when the Americans were unwilling to share their intelligence.

  


"Yeah its me," Robert replied. "I know you usually prefer to call me but I have a lead on that cop you were trying to trace." 

  


Like all men in the business, there was never any point wasting time on idle chatter when there was news to impart. Personal queries could wait until after the information was given. Robert was no exception. He had been in the CIA as along as Bryan had been MI6 operative. 

  


"You do?" Bryan asked automatically, sitting up straighter on the be. 

  


"Yeah, Eve McCaughley isn’t it?"

  


"That’s right," Bryan nodded remembering how his efforts to locate Stone following the destruction of the Malcolm Building had led him to Eve McCaughley.

  


He had tracked Stone to Point Pleasant and found no further trace of the doctor other than a sighting of him on a boat. It had been Bryan’s belief that Stone had purchased a boat and fled the country before the authorities closed in on him. The kind of vessel that Stone would need to sail out of American jurisdiction could not be bought without records and during his inquiries, Bryan had been unable to produce any vessel belonging to the doctor. The only new boat to arrive into the Point Pleasant harbor during the period that Aaron Stone was meant to have been in the vicinity, was a motor yacht called the _Anemone_ and she belonged to an Eve McCaughley.

  


In an effort to be thorough, Bryan had run a check on Eve McCaughley and found that she was respected and decorated officer of the New York City Police. Aside from a distinguished record, there was no evidence that McCaughley and Stone had ever met. A recent fire had seen Eve come into a tidy sum of insurance money, which she had apparently used to buy a boat. Bryan had not thought anything of it because he could appreciate the need for a homicide cop to desire a little sojourn on the high seas. In fact, Bryan was almost ready to disregard McCaughley completely until he discovered that her last case prior to her application of indefinite leave, was investigating a murder of a Malcolm Industries employee.

  


Bryan did not believe in coincidences and when he had attempted to trace the woman, discovered her to be just as elusive as Doctor Stone. The _Anemone_ had not pulled into port anywhere in the world for almost twelve months and Bryan had to wonder if Eve McCaughley was not somehow involved in the building’s destruction as well. In any case, he had kept his suspicions to himself, since he had no real proof of her involvement. All he had done was to ask Robert to keep an eye out for the woman if she ever surfaced again.

  


"Well apparently, she bought a car in some place called Lochinver a little less than 48 hours ago, using her credit card," Robert reported.

  


"Lochinver?" Bryan exclaimed. "Scotland?"

  


"Yeah," he could imagine Robert nodding his head on the other side of the Atlantic. "I’ve got multiple credit card payments heading southwards. I don’t know why you’re so interested in an NYPD cop but apparently the lady is heading towards London."

  


Bryan had never told Robert specifically why he was so interested in Eve McCaughley. Robert was a friend but he was also CIA and had to answer to superiors just as much as Bryan. A lead on Aaron Stone was something he would have to bring to his superiors, despite their longstanding friendship. Bryan’s had made the request citing it to be a personal favor and Robert had not asked him to elaborate. Bryan preferred to leave it that way.

  


"Thanks Robert," Bryan said gratefully. "I’ll deal with it from here."

  


"What you not even going to tell me what this is about? She’s quite a looker. Is she a girlfriend or something?"

  


"Something like that," Bryan replied, deciding it was better that Robert believed exactly what he had supposed, that Eve was an old girlfriend.

  


"Well the next time you need to find one of your girlfriends, try missing persons," Robert returned sarcastically. "I’d like to see you settle down with a nice girl myself but I’m not about to be your dating service."

  


"Sorry," Bryan feigned an apology to salve Robert’s feelings. He liked the man and did not wish to lie to him but that was the way the game was played sometimes. No one was quite what they appeared, not even him. "I’ll send you an invitation to the wedding."

  


"Right," Robert said skeptically. "I gotta go, you take care of yourself."

  


"You too Robert," Bryan replied with genuine warmth before the line between them was terminated. 

  


Bryan stared at the cell phone for a long minute, trying to process the information that he had just received, unaware that Fred was staring at him in question. When he noticed those powerful blue orbs staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern, Bryan could not help but smile a little. She was extremely sensible for a little girl and then there were other times when she was very much as a six year old should be. He looked around the room and wondered if it was a safe place and whether or not it was possible to leave her here for a few hours. 

  


It took him no more than a split second to decide that it was not. 

  


"Fred, I need to go somewhere for awhile but I don’t want to leave you here," Bryan explained, having no desire to deceive her. "If you come with me, you must do exactly what I tell you."

  


"Don’t leave me Bryan," she said meeting his eyes. "I don’t want to be by myself. I’ll be good."

  


Her plea speared his heart like a knife and Bryan offered her a little smile. "I know you will luv. I wish there was some place safe for you but there isn’t at the moment."

  


"Where are we going?" Fred asked. 

  


  
  
"I need to find someone," Bryan explained as best he could without having to go into detail about Malcolm Industries, David Saeran and the untimely destruction of John Malcolm’s central hub which Bryan was certain was the key to everything, if he could only learn why.

  


"Who?" 

  


"Just someone," Bryan answered, reluctant to give her a name because Eve McCaughley had been his own little secret, one he was unwilling to relinquish to anyone, even now. "She’s someone who could lead me to the one person who may be able to tell me why all this is happening."

  


And it was the truth. Eve McCaughley was _his_ lead and if she was here in London, then perhaps Aaron Stone was too and if that were the case, then the good doctor might just be tempted to look up an old friend.

  


Even if she was his best friend’s ex-wife.


	6. Chapter Five: The Son of Gondor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

It was warm this time of the year in North Dakota.  
  
The heat soaked through his uniform and moistened his skin beneath the fabric.  
Colonel Walter Green adjusted his collar as he walked across the base towards  
the parking lot, eager to make his appointment in the city. Even though the sun  
was setting in the horizon, the heat did not abate and Green who had started  
life close to the Canadian border wished that it would rain so that the  
temperature would cool down. He hated the weather with a passion despite having  
been posted here for more than twelve months already. Still, the assignment was  
an important one and the patriot in him who saw the duty he was entrusted with  
as more than just another military posting but rather a sacred trust, had come  
to conclusion that enduring the unseasonable heat was a small price to play for  
serving his country.  
  
In this day and age when terrorism was running rife throughout the civilized  
world, the September 11th attacks in New York had convinced America that the  
nation were fighting a different kind of war, one where the front lines were not  
in foreign lands but rather on home soil. In this climate of growing awareness  
of how vulnerable they were despite being a superpower, it was the bases at home  
rather than abroad that were being placed under the greatest scrutiny. In the  
war with this new enemy, America had learnt that the offensive would begin at  
home and eternal vigilance was their only defense.  
  
Security within facilities such as Grand Forks, Barksdale and Ellsworth were  
placed under tight scrutiny with all systems being evaluated and improved to  
avoid impending disaster. Although the likelihood of a terrorist attack on any  
of these locations was remote, the US strategic command preferred not to gamble  
when it came to its nuclear arsenal. Even one of the Class LGM-30 Minuteman III  
ICBMs stored in these locations could cause untold destruction. While it seemed  
impossible that the enemy could ever pass the stringent checks required to gain  
access to the weapons or any of the centers that could facilitate a launch,  
strategic command had to remember that the same was once thought of the World  
Trade Center.  
  
It was Colonel Walter Green’s duty to ensure that the security of these weapons  
were assured, that by his actions, the most dangerous weapons in the US military  
arsenal was kept under strict surveillance. Green took pride in the position,  
knowing that by doing his job well, he ensured that innocent people across the  
country were able to rest easy. Personally, he did not want to see the day when  
his ‘charges’ were put to use. He might have been a career military officer but  
he understood the weapons for what they were, the last resort of a different  
time, quickly gaining obsolescence. It was one redundancy that Green was happy  
to see.  
  
He glanced at his watch as he reached the parking lot and cursed under his  
breath because he was late. His last meeting ran longer than it should have and  
he knew that he was going to have a devil of a time getting across Grand Forks  
to make the engagement without being late. Fortunately, Elizabeth would  
understand, he thought with a smile. She knew what he did for a living and  
appreciated that there were times when there would be late meetings. Still,  
Green did not wish to disappoint her if he could avoid it. Elizabeth Albrecht  
had been the one bright spot in his personal life since being posted to Grand  
Forks and its insufferable heat.  
  
They had met at a camp function and hit it off immediately. Ten years his  
junior, Elizabeth was a school teacher in her thirties, with wild blond hair and  
a dimpled smile that probably dazzled the male students of her class just as  
much as he, when she first cast her gaze upon him. They had been seeing each  
other for quite some time now with Green proposing less than a week ago. He felt  
infused with warmth as he remembered her happy expression as he presented her  
with the diamond ring and was equally touched when she declared that she was  
going to give him one as well, as a token of their bond.

She taught English literature so Green was unsurprised by her somewhat flowery  
ideas of romance. In fact, the reason for his determination to make their  
engagement this evening on time was because he knew that she was picking his  
ring from the jewelers today. No doubt, she wanted to present it to him with a  
little bit of ceremony. Honestly, Green was not that partial to wearing jewelry  
but it would make Elizabeth happy and with that in mind, supposed he could  
endure it.  
  
After all, it was just a ring.  
  
************  
  
Aaron could tell Tory was having difficulty dealing with what he had told to her  
and it was not merely because she was still wearing the same look of incredulity  
for the past hour or the fact that she was staring at Legolas and Haldir with  
wide eyes. Especially after they had removed their caps and revealed to her that  
they were elves. She had lowered herself in a comfortable wing chair and  
continued to stare, despite Aaron’s best efforts to explain things.  
  
Tory was a woman who often needed to be in control of a situation, in  
particular, her own. To be confronted with something so incredible was straining  
her grasp of reality. After all, she was a barrister, who held the law in  
reverence and the basis for the way she viewed society. Whether or not it was  
the law of the land, the law of physics or nature, it was still an absolute  
definition of how she perceived things. The notion of Valinor, elves and dark  
powers steeped in magic was more than she could deal with all at once. He began  
to seriously question whether or not telling her the whole truth had been such a  
wise idea.  
  
“This is insane,” she kept repeating to herself as she sat in her chair staring  
at Legolas and Haldir.  
  
“Look I know this is difficult to deal with but trust me, I was a cop in New  
York and I’m telling you they are elves,” Eve volunteered, trying to reach the  
woman with whom she could feel some empathy. She remembered how she had been  
after learning the origins of Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan in her house more  
than a year ago.  
  
Eve had not taken it any better than Tory did.  
  
“Elves are fiction!” Tory exclaimed. “They’re the kind of things that appear in  
fairy tales for children, they are not real!  
  
“Are all the women in this realm so obtuse?" Haldir asked, staring at the others  
in question. While he did not understand completely what the woman had been  
saying, he comprehended that she had some difficulty in accepting himself and  
Legolas as elves.  
  
“What is he saying?” Tory returned when she realised that one of the ‘elves’ had  
spoken and she had not understood a word he said.  
  
“Haldir, it is not her fault,” Legolas frowned. “These people have been denied  
the knowledge of our history. There is nothing of the Valar, Valinor, the elves  
or Middle earth in their history. We cannot even claim to be myth.”  
  
“WHAT IS HE SAYING?” Tory snapped again.  
  
“Take it easy, Tory,” Aaron came to her, trying to calm her down. “I know it’s  
hard...”  
  
“HARD?” She fairly roared. “You disappear for a year, without a word and then  
you come back with a story so incredible that no sane person could possibly  
believe it and you’re telling me that you’ve hiding out with elves? If you  
weren't already a psychiatrist, I would say you need one!”  
  
“This is tiresome,” Gandalf finally weighed in.  
  
The wizard had been resting on the sofa, listening to the younger members of his  
company attempt rather unsuccessfully to cut through twenty first-century  
reasoning. The young woman which he sensed could be of great help to them in  
their quest was wholly unconvinced despite the evidence of her own eyes. Like  
Aaron, he understood her skepticism but time was becoming scarce. The evil that  
was unleashed upon this world with the return of Melkor and the rest of his  
minions was reaching climax and if they did not put an end to it soon, all would  
suffer a catastrophe greater than the destruction of Beleriand.

Gandalf crossed the wooden floor and paused in front of Tory. The staff that had  
seen him through so many trials had been metamorphosed into a contemporary  
walking stick with an ornate crystal head.  
  
“Young lady,” Gandalf lowered himself to his knees before Tory and took her hand  
in his. “I know this is difficult for you to believe and under any other  
circumstances, I would be inclined to allow you the time needed to adjust to the  
truth but what is out there in your world is growing in strength. I can feel it  
tugging at each corner of the globe, preparing to reach fruition. We need your  
assistance if we are to complete our quest, I hope that you can put aside your  
disbelief to help us because we have little time in which to act.”  
  
Tory looked at the old man with his kindly blue eyes and felt her heart wanting  
to believe but it was her mind that she put most stock in and at the moment, she  
could not overcome the barrier of skepticism no matter how much she tried.  
“It's not that I don’t want to believe,” Tory confessed, shifting her gaze  
between Gandalf and Aaron, “it’s that I can’t. Aaron, I’m sorry I can’t accept  
what you’re saying as the truth.”  
  
“Even with these two standing here?” Eve challenged before Aaron could, pointing  
at Haldir and Legolas, her patience starting to erode.  
  
“As odd as their ears appear to be,” Tory declared defiantly, “they are rather  
human looking for elves.”  
  
“I find that insulting,” Haldir who could understand English but not speak it  
well, turned to Legolas in response.  
  
“Be quiet,” Legolas growled, glaring at him sharply.  
  
“I’m afraid then you leave me no choice,” Gandalf sighed as if reluctant to  
embark upon this course but there was no other alternative. They needed this  
woman and mere words would not break through the conditioning of her twenty  
first-century paranoia and sensibilities. It would require something with a  
little more potency.  
  
“What do you mean...?” Aaron asked anxiously as he saw Gandalf raising his  
walking stick between himself and Tory.  
  
Without saying another word, a flash of white light flooded the space between  
the old man and the woman. It emanated from the crystal orb that perched upon  
the walking stick. Aaron flinched as the brilliance overloaded his vision  
receptors and saw the others turning away similarly. He took a step forward  
despite it, fear and concern for Tory overriding his caution.  
  
“No Aaron,” Eve grabbed his arm and cried out, “let him do what he has to!”  
  
The sphere of white light trapped Tory’s eyes as it flooded her vision and  
drained away all semblance of the physical world. She wanted to close her eyes  
but was unable, fixated on the power generated by the orb, the power that was  
Gandalf’s self when he was not flesh, showing her things, things that she could  
not imagine and yet knew, at the very core of her to be the truth. She saw  
images flashing in her mind like a picture slide show. It felt as if they  
appearing before her eyes but in truth knew that these images were being fed  
directly into her brain.  
  
Tory Harding saw her people awakening at Hildorien, saw the world they had built  
and the friends they had made in the elves. She saw that man was once one of  
many races that held dominion over the earth, before the time of the great  
darkness and the great loneliness that came when all the others abandoned the  
world and man was left behind. She saw kingdoms they had built and the wars  
they had fought, side by side, man and elf, elf and dwarf, dwarf and ent, ent  
and hobbit. A parliament of races that once walked side by side, all gone, all  
disappeared into earth until man was all that was left and in the deep of him,  
the loss of the others had left him incomplete, always searching and yet never  
finding.  
  
“Oh God!” She uttered softly as it all crowded in on her thoughts, marrying the  
disbelief of her mind with the understanding of her heart.  
  
“Tory!” Aaron broke free from Eve as the light died and with it, Tory’s  
consciousness. The lady slumped back against the chair, her mind unable to  
process what it had seen and maintain awareness at the same time.  
  
Aaron was at her side in seconds, the physician in him taking hold completely.  
“What did you do Gandalf?” He demanded.  
  
“Calm yourself,” Gandalf rose to his feet, not at all perturbed by Aaron’s  
demand, aware of the affection the younger man held for the woman. “She will be  
fine and when she awakes, she will be more receptive to our presence.”  
  
“What did you do?” Eve questioned; trying not to feel threatened by the  
attention Aaron was displaying towards Tory. In her heart, she knew that Aaron’s  
love was hers but Eve had been a policewoman too long to be completely  
indifferent to the suspicion of there being more between them.  
  
“I merely opened her mind to the past,” Gandalf replied. “I allowed her to see  
briefly what had been before the man was alone on this world. It is a great deal  
to accept all at once and I fear her mind chose to shut down in order to deal  
with the images. She will awaken when it has adjusted to the truth she has been  
shown.”  
  
“It is a great deal to ask of her,” Legolas commented sympathetically. “It is  
difficult to believe when one feels so extraordinarily secure in one's own  
world.”  
  
“You said that she was necessary to us,” Haldir asked staring at Tory, not  
entirely impressed by the barrister. “I do not see how. If anything I think she  
will hinder us.”  
  
“There is strength in unlikely places Master Elf,” Gandalf retorted. “My  
instincts tell me that she has a part to play in all this and there are many  
forces rallied against, some that we are yet unaware of. If we are to combat  
them, then we will need all the allies we are able to find.”  
  
Haldir was not entirely convinced as he glanced briefly at the woman Aaron was  
moving towards the sofa, quite unconscious. “I will trust your judgement in this  
Olorin but I cannot see what advantage, if any will she be to us.”

“I think when the times comes she will surprise us all,” Legolas retorted in  
Tory’s defense, confident that Gandalf did not speak such words lightly. After  
all, Legolas had once been apart of the Fellowship and if anything had convinced  
him that weakness could mask great strength, it was the four hobbits that had  
been his comrades during the greatest quest of his life.  
  
“I hope so,” Eve replied staring at the way Aaron was tending to Tory, telling  
herself for the hundredth time that there was nothing between her lover and his  
old friend. “I really hope so.”  
  
***********  
  
Bryan dared not risk approaching Victoria Harding’s house during the day because  
the rest of MI6 knew what he did, that Victoria Harding and Aaron Stone were  
known associates. Apparently they had met during Stone’s visit to England with  
his deceased friend Stuart Farmer some years ago. Harding had married Farmer  
and returned to America six months later. Although the marriage ended in divorce  
five years after, it was obvious that the two had remained close friends as  
Harding had instigated a private investigation into Aaron’s disappearance. News  
of the psychiatrist’s possible complicity in the destruction of the Malcolm  
Building was never made public because of the scarcity of evidence.  
  
If MI6 suspected what he did, that Eve McCaughley was connected to Aaron Stone,  
they would be led here as well and now that Bryan found himself an outcast  
thanks to Caldwell, he could not risk their interference until he knew the truth  
himself. With every fiber of his being, Bryan knew that Aaron Stone had all his  
answers or if not, some pieces of the puzzle. It was well after dark when Bryan  
arrived at Harding’s home with Fred in the passenger seat. He wished there was  
someone he could trust enough to leave Fred with because he did not think that  
she should be out in the open like this. Unfortunately, if Caldwell was  
involved, he had no choice. If it was the old boy who had sacrificed him to  
David Saeran, then nowhere was safe.  
  
Finding the darkest corner of the street, he parked the car, praying that the  
shadows would hide it and Fred for the duration of time he needed to be away  
from her. The child’s face had been on the news everywhere and he could not  
risk Harding getting the police involved if she saw the little girl. Fred had  
climbed into the backseat, perfectly content to remain hidden in the shadows  
until Bryan returned, understanding his reason for leaving her. The doubt she  
had about him since this nightmare began had faded away into complete trust that  
he would protect her no matter what. She knew that she could rely on him to  
find her or come to her aid if she was in trouble.  
  
“Take this piece of paper,” he handed it to her. “If anything happens to me  
while I’m in there, I want you to knock on someone's door and tell them to call  
the police You give them that piece of paper which has my brother’s name and  
address on it. Frank loves kids and has two of his own; he’ll look after you  
for me in anything goes wrong. Do you understand?”  
  
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she said quietly. “I don’t want you to  
go away like mummy and daddy.”  
  
Bryan swallowed thickly and replied, his voice bleeding with emotion, “I don’t  
plan on anything happening to me Fred but we need to be careful nonetheless. Now  
if you see anything while I’m in there, you press that horn and make as much  
noise as you can, just like I showed you. As soon I hear you, I will be back. I  
don't intend to be gone for very long, I promise.”  
  
“Okay,” she nodded obediently. “I’ll wait here.”  
  
“That’s a good girl,” Bryan answered with a smile. Fortunately, Fred seemed to  
have a sense for trouble and suspected that if anyone attempted to sneak up on  
her, she would know it anyway. Bryan was certain that how she was able to know  
this was connected to the fact that her pursuers were not entirely human.  
  
In the last few hours, he had plenty of time to reflect upon his situation. He  
had believed initially that the death of Fred’s family had been an abduction  
gone wrong but now he was not as certain as he once was. Even when those  
creatures had her in their grasp, they had not killed her, in fact, it appeared  
as if they were attempting to take her alive. He had thought that perhaps it  
was because she had seen them kill and then decided that it was not expedient to  
allow her to live with that information. Yet both times, when they had her in  
their sights, their action was not to kill but to abduct but he was still  
certain he had heard Saeran speaking about a man.  
  
There was something he was missing, a vital part that he could not see, no  
matter how much he pondered the question.  
  
Deciding that he had best get this present task over and done with, Bryan  
climbed out of the car and headed towards the Harding home. As he made his way  
up the sidewalk to the front steps of the house, he noted with encouragement  
that the lights were on. The lady was home. The question remained if Aaron  
Stone was with her.  
  
***********  
  
“Someone is here,” Haldir stated suddenly.  
  
“What?” Eve turned sharply towards the elf while Legolas had already crossed the  
floor towards the nearby window, trying to see for certain who the new arrival  
was. He too had sensed the presence of the stranger that was now ascending the  
front steps of the house.  
  
“He is right,” Legolas nodded, pulling back from the window. “It is a man,  
though I cannot see his face through the darkness.”  
  
“We can’t turn off the lights and pretend no one’s home,” Aaron retorted rising  
to his feet. “Tory’s out of it, she’s not going to be answering the door.”  
  
“We can’t let them see you,” Eve added anxiously, suddenly fearful of Aaron’s  
life.  
  
Aaron thought quickly, hating the fact that he had to be protected especially  
when they had far more important things to be concerned about at the moment.  
However, Eve was right, he could not be see. It would only complicate the  
situation further. There was only one solution and he hoped it would work.  
  
“Everyone except Eve, hide,” Aaron ordered quickly.  
  
“Hide?” Eve stared at him perplexed as the first knock on the door was heard.  
  
“Yeah,” Aaron nodded. “No one knows you and you look normal enough not to raise  
suspicions. Just answer the door and tell whomever it is that Tory’s out or  
something and that you’re a houseguest.”  
  
“That’s your whole plan, former King of Gondor?” Eve hissed with doubt.  
  
“Its the best that I can manage at the moment,” Aaron retorted sarcastically,  
delivering her a dark look at the same time before adding, "although I'll bet  
his wife wasn't bitching in his ear."  
  
“I must agree with Eve, it is not much of a plan.” Haldir declared before Eve  
could respond.  
  
“We will do as Aaron says,” Gandalf advised standing up from his chair and  
urging the elves to follow him. The wizard did not appear at all concerned  
despite the urgency of their situation. Aaron wanted to ask him why but supposed  
that it could wait until after they dealt with their unexpected visitor.  
  
Eve watched as her companions disappear into the shadows of the house, while  
Tory remained on the sofa unconscious. Her attention snapped back to the  
corridor when she heard another knock against the door. Taking a deep breath,  
she calmed herself so as to belay any the suspicion that anything was amiss when  
she finally confronted Tory’s unexpected guest. Looking over her shoulder one  
last time to ensure that her friends were out of sight, Eve made her way forward  
and saw the silhouette of a man through the stain glass window on the door.  
  
Eve ran her hands through her dark hair and opened the door slowly, producing a  
welcoming smile when she faced the stranger. As the light poured out of the  
foyer, Eve found that she was able to take a closer look at him. He was  
approaching his forties, if not there already, standing rather tall, with blond  
hair, blue eyes and was attractive in a rugged sort of way. Upon seeing her,  
his eyes widened in recognition.  
  
“Eve McCaughley?” Bryan exclaimed, genuinely surprised to see Eve here. He  
supposed he should have expected the possibility of her being present but he had  
assumed it would be Harding who would be answering the door.  
  
“I don’t know who you mean,” Eve replied, taken completely off guard and started  
shutting the door in panic.  
  
“Wait!” Bryan braced the door with his foot before it could close. “I really  
need to talk to you! Detective McCaughley!”  
  
“I’m not her!” Eve shouted defiantly before Bryan’s strength forced the door  
open.  
  
Unable to keep him from entering, Eve retreated back up the corridor, unable to  
fight in such narrow confines. The stranger followed her as expected, still  
calling her name and expecting her to confess to him her identity. How did he  
know who she was and if so, whom else had he told? Eve had to silence him and  
hurried into the living room, hoping that he would follow.  
  
Bryan went after her, determined not to let her escape when she could lead him  
to Aaron Stone. However, no sooner then he had entered the living room, he was  
confronted by a foot coming at him in a powerful forward kick. There was barely  
a second to dodge it and Bryan escaped the crippling strike, stepping forward so  
that he was soon behind her. She turned around swiftly, coming at him again and  
Bryan found no alternative but to defend himself. She was surprisingly fast but  
he had been trained to kill, not to defend himself, as she undoubtedly had. He  
caught her foot in mid air and spun it around, sending her crashing to the  
floor. She hit the polished floorboards hard but recovered quickly, flipping  
upright and coming at him with a fist flying.  
  
“Wait!” He tried desperately to speak and had no choice but to block the blow  
and lash back in kind. He had not meant to hit her hard but the force of his  
punch sent her crashing into the coffee table. It gave way under her weight,  
crumbling beneath her as she fell flat against it.  
  
“EVE!” Bryan heard a decided masculine voice shout in horror before a man  
appeared out of the shadows. It took Bryan a further second to realize the man  
in question was Doctor Aaron Stone.  
  
“Damn you!” Stone shouted in anger, seeing Eve lying on the floor, still quite  
dazed.  
  
He launched himself at Bryan before the MI6 agent could respond, barreling into  
him with a full body tackle that sent them both slamming against a bookshelf.  
The weight of both bodies rocked the shelf precariously, causing any object  
resting freely upon it to come crashing down around their ears. Bryan shoved  
Aaron away from him easily enough. The doctor may have been angry but he was no  
killer or for that matter, a fighter. However, it did not keep him from  
throwing a punch and Brian who had quite enough of all this fighting, grabbed  
his fist with one hand and Stone’s throat with the other. Slamming the doctor  
against the wall, Bryan held him in place so that the man could listen to him.  
  
“Will you please calm down, Doctor Stone. I’m not here to harm you,” Bryan said  
breathing hard. “You are a psychiatrist after all, you do know how to listen?”  
  
“You got a funny way of showing it for a man who wants to talk!” Aaron hissed,  
his gaze shifting to Eve who was still lying amongst the debris of the coffee  
table.  
  
“She started it!” Bryan declared in exasperation when he suddenly felt something  
on the edge of his awareness.  
  
Turning around, he felt the side of his face flare in pain as he was hit with a  
vase. Glass fragments stung his face as he dropped to his knees and saw another  
female, one with fiery red hair and a very irate gleam in her green eyes looking  
down at him, as if she had just awakened from a very bad dream. Bryan stared at  
her dazed and was assailed with a stench he was quick to recognize as blood. He  
could feel its sticky warmth running down his face and knew that it was his own.

  
“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Tory demanded haughtily.

Aaron hurried towards Eve who was out cold. She had knocked her head badly when  
she had been thrown against the table. Meanwhile, Legolas, Haldir and Gandalf  
had emerged from the shadows. Legolas was swift to act, arming his bow and arrow  
in quick stead and taking charge of their captive. The man was still on his  
hands and knees, apparently reeling a little from the vase Tory had broken over  
his head. Legolas and Haldir were standing over him, while Gandalf had  
retreated to the wing chair once more, releasing a heavy sigh as he sat down.  
  
“Eve, honey,” Aaron help Eve to sit up, “are you hurt?”  
  
“I’m okay,” she muttered after a moment, her face contracting into a wince of  
pain. “Just stop the world so I can get off.”  
  
“Thank Christ,” Aaron declared relieved, embracing her when she sat up with his  
help. “I thought he had hurt you.”  
  
“Well he did,” Eve threw the man a dark look, “he's fast.”  
  
“Not fast enough,” Aaron replied, giving Tory a grateful look.  
  
Bryan’s senses were starting to clear as he heard the voices around him and rose  
to his feet gingerly, only to find himself staring at an arrow aimed at his  
chest. The archer’s expression was one of stone until Brian met his gaze and  
then a most amazing thing happened. The blond archer’s whose age Bryan assumed  
was in his twenties, stared at him in nothing less than astonishment. For a  
moment, Bryan was tempted to ask him what was so shocking when the man’s lips  
curled into a smile.  
  
“Boromir!” Legolas exclaimed in wonder. “It is Boromir!”  
  
“What?” Bryan stared at him in confusion. “What did you say?”  
  
“Boromir,” Legolas grinned, lowering his bow because Haldir had not. “Aaron!  
This is Boromir!” The elf said excitedly and threw his arm around the confused  
human in a hug of happiness and friendship.  
  
“Hey, get your hands off me!” Bryan snapped, pulling away from the elf, certain  
the man was insane or confusing him with someone else.  
  
“Boromir?” Aaron pulled away from Eve for a moment at Legolas’ revelation. “You  
mean the Boromir of the Fellowship?” He asked the elf in elvish.  
  
“The same,” Legolas said still smiling broadly at Bryan. “It is him. Just like I  
knew you were Aragorn. He is Boromir, son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor.”  
  
“Well that’s nice to know,” Aaron shook his head, never quite becoming  
accustomed to this whole aspect of reincarnation, “it explains the hugging.”  
  
Bryan had thought he had heard most languages and while he could not speak it,  
he certainly recognized it. What Stone was speaking was something he was  
completely unfamiliar with. It sounded like a mixture of Norwegian and Italian  
but was distinctly its own and oddly familiar. With the exception of the two  
women, everyone was staring at him and it made Bryan decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
“What are you saying?” Bryan demanded. “Who does he think I am?”  
  
“A fallen warrior of Gondor,” Gandalf said helpfully.  
  
“A fallen what?” Bryan retorted.  
  
“So this is the Boromir that got skewered by arrows?” Aaron looked at Legolas  
for answer, ignoring Bryan’s question.  
  
“He died valiantly trying to protect our friends,” Legolas frowned, hating the  
sacrifice of Boromir to be put so cavalierly.  
  
Boromir’s actions with Frodo could not be helped. As a warrior of Gondor, he  
would have experienced Sauron’s invasion upon the lands of his people as not  
merely a threat but rather a reality. It was understandable that of all of the  
Fellowship, it was Boromir who succumbed to the lure of the One Ring first.  
Mordor had assailed his people for many years, it was only natural that Boromir  
would want to use any means to end the danger to his people once and for all.  
Whatever disgrace he had endured by his attempt to steal the ring, he had more  
than made up for by defending Merry and Pippin to his death.  
  
No one forgot that, not Legolas, not Gandalf and certainly not Aragorn who had  
mourned his death greatly.  
  
“That was a hundred thousand years ago,” Aaron pointed out, having no memories  
of any of this. “Who knows what he could be at this point?”  
  
Eve who had regained consciousness to a better degree, stood up shakily now that  
she had recovered, responded coolly, “well let’s find out.”  
  
Eve strode towards Bryan, earning a cautionary warning from Aaron about getting  
too close. Without asking permission and conscious that her captive was aware  
that should he make a false move, Haldir was going to put an arrow through his  
chest, Eve proceeded to frisk him. It did not take long before she discovered  
that he was armed and reached into his coat to produce the gun.

“What’s this?” Eve asked taking a closer look at the weapon.  
  
“Home protection,” Bryan said sourly.  
  
"If you had a gun why didn't use it?" Eve looked at him puzzled.  
  
"Because I didn't need to," Bryan said confidently. "It was not as if you were  
offering much sport."  
  
"And yet you got brained by a woman with a vase," Eve returned sarcastically  
before examining the gun like an expert. “This is a 9mm Walther PPK. Are you  
with British intelligence?”  
  
“How would you know that?” Aaron stared at her, never being able to tell the  
difference they way that she could. Actually in truth, his knowledge of guns did  
not extend beyond being able to shoot them and that was not a talent he was  
particularly proud of.  
  
“Standard weapon for British agents, specifically MI6,” Eve replied as a matter  
of factly, admiring the weapon as she handled it.  
  
“You know your guns Detective McCaughley,” Bryan retorted, impressed at her  
acumen though not the situation he was in.  
  
“So what does British Intelligence want with me?” Tory interjected for the first  
time. Since she had awakened to the melee, taking place in her living room, she  
had been running on confused but decided to answer the most immediate questions  
first.  
  
“I was trying to find Doctor Stone here,” Bryan replied. “I’m in a bit of a  
situation and I needed his help.”  
  
“My help?” Aaron stared him in confusion. “I thought everyone was after my ass  
for blowing up the damn Malcolm Building?”  
  
“Did you blow it up?” Bryan asked and Aaron saw that the question was very  
important to the man, as if his opinion of Aaron would hinge greatly upon the  
answer.  
  
“No I didn’t,” Aaron retorted firmly, meeting his eyes. “I did not destroy the  
Malcolm Building.”  
  
“Do you know who did?” Bryan asked instead.  
  
“Aaron don’t say a word,” Tory interjected before he could speak. She pushed her  
way between the two men. “I’m Aaron’s barrister and before he tells you  
anything, I want to guarantee his safety from prosecution.”  
  
“Oh bloody marvelous, a barrister,” Bryan snorted at her with clear derision.  
“This isn’t the dock luv. Can’t you go find an ambulance to chase? I’ve been  
waiting to talk to the doctor for quite some time now.”  
  
“Listen you Neanderthal,” Tory glared at him, disliking anyone calling her love.  
“I am his counsel and I will not allow you to endanger his rights!”  
  
“I think he’s old enough to look after himself without your help,” Bryan  
retorted. “Besides if he does get charged with blowing up the Malcolm Building,  
he will need someone a little more qualified than you!”  
  
“Why you arrogant....” Tory stared to growl when Aaron interrupted.  
  
“Okay, I think we’re getting a little off the point here,” Aaron stared at both  
of them sternly.  
  
“Aaron you cannot tell him anything,” Tory protested firmly. “Whatever you say  
can be used against you in court. We have very different anti-terrorism laws  
than you do in the States. He could use anything you tell him and if I am not  
mistaken, what you’re being suspected of is a capital crime and England has  
extradition treaties with America!”  
  
“I am not charging him with anything!” Bryan snapped in anger. “I'm not here in  
any official capacity. I am MI6, which means I'll be in trouble just talking to  
him instead of turning him over to Scotland Yard. I just want to know why the  
Malcolm Building was destroyed because it certainly was not because of any  
terrorist bomb! What leveled that building was not caused by an explosive!”  
  
“Aaron, I think you should answer him,” Gandalf replied, sensing the need within  
this man for answers. Galadriel’s vision had revealed the Son of Gondor playing  
some part in this affair and Boromir’s presence here, or at least, his  
twenty-first century incarnation, was according to Iluvutar's design. It was  
why Gandalf had not worried when they first discovered a visitor at Tory’s door.  
  
It did not require Gandalf’s clairvoyance for Aaron to agree with him. He could  
see something in this man’s eyes, something that needed desperately to know the  
truth. With a flash of insight, Aaron knew not came from where, Aaron felt a  
strange bond with this man, almost as potent as the one he had felt when he and  
Legolas had first met. This man was searching for answers and Aaron who had  
found himself plunging into an unbelievable world not too long ago, could  
empathize with his confusion.

“Its alright Tory,” Aaron said finally, stepping forward.  
  
“Aaron, this is not a good idea,” Tory reiterated her protest.  
  
“Its okay Tory,” Eve placed a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I think he  
knows what he is doing.”  
  
“You sure you want to know the truth?” Aaron looked at Bryan.  
  
“I’m not standing here because I believe what I read in reports,” Bryan  
returned.  
  
“Alright,” Aaron nodded, deciding that he would hold nothing back. “John Malcolm  
was an ancient demon resurrected in the body of a human being. He was first  
destroyed by ancient gods who came back to finish the job when they learnt he  
was loose in the modern world.”  
  
Bryan drew a deep breath and stared at their faces. They expected him to  
protest, to call them crazy but somehow, he did not feel as if Stone had lied to  
him, far from it as a matter of fact. After he had seen the creatures with eyes  
of red, which had no shape or form, he had been willing to believe quite a bit.  
The building had not been destroyed with explosives but rather by a force no  
forensic expert had been able to determine. The interviews of witnesses were  
disjointed. Hundreds of people had been in the area and none had been able to  
explain how, only that it was destroyed. They saw no flames, no initial  
explosion, just the complete collapse of the Monolith and all they could  
remember in the wake of it, was the sensation of a strange harmony that left  
investigators baffled.  
  
“Did he have any invisible friends with red eyes?” Bryan asked after a second.  
  
Gandalf rose to his feet and strode over to Bryan and demanded in low voice,  
“why do you ask?”  
  
“Because I’ve seen them.”  
  
**************  
  
  
“Where are we going?” Aaron demanded as he followed the British agent named  
Bryan Miller out of Tory’s house to the man’s car, with Eve and Legolas standing  
by to intervene if Bryan’s urgent errand turned out to be a ruse to get away  
from his captors.  
  
“To my car,” Bryan retorted unhappy at being shadowed.  
  
He could have gotten away he supposed but he needed answers and had no choice  
but to endure their suspicion until he had retrieved Fred from the car. He was  
not about to leave her in the car indefinitely while he played twenty questions  
with them. As it was, he still had difficulty dealing with everything that the  
old man named Gandalf had told him, even though a good deal of it made sense. A  
very strange kind of sense that involved, elves, demons and reincarnation. It  
was the business about reincarnation that was the hardest for him to deal with.  
  
Yet John Malcolm being some kind of demon was not difficult at all to accept. It  
was not because Bryan had seen the creatures that had murdered Fred’s parents  
and knew without doubt they were not human. He had seen their eyes glow after  
putting enough bullets into them to stop a small army and still they had stood  
up unscathed by the deadly barrage. Gandalf had called them Nazgul and for no  
other reason than the fact that it sounded sinister, the word had sent a cold  
shiver through his spine as if on some spiritual level he could not understand,  
he knew what they were. If those things could exist, then there was every  
reason to believe that John Malcolm may have been some dark lord from an ancient  
past.  
  
“What’s at your car?” Eve asked automatically, feeling extremely wary around the  
new arrival especially when he had taken her so easily in hand to hand combat  
and because Gandalf had asked her to return Bryan his weapon out of some belief  
that this man whom they had just met could be trusted.  
  
“The reason why I’m running,” Bryan said shortly not wishing to elaborate  
because that would lead to more questions.  
  
“You’re running?” Aaron looked at him. “Why?”  
  
“Because I saw those Nazgul and what they did,” Bryan snapped abruptly.  
  
“He has not changed very much,” Legolas remarked with a smile. “He bears the  
same charm.”

“What did he say?” Bryan glanced over his shoulder as Legolas spoke in that odd  
language.  
  
“That you were a bastard back then too,” Eve said shortly.  
  
“Wonderful girl,” Bryan stared at Aaron, “you must tell me where she went to  
finishing school.”  
  
“Do I have to separate you two?” Aaron looked at both of them critically.  
  
“Very funny,” Eve remarked staring at Aaron through narrowed eyes as they came  
to a stop next to a car in a particularly darkened corner.  
  
Bryan did not respond because he was more concerned with collecting Fred who was  
waiting in the car for him. Opening the door, he saw that she had fallen asleep  
in the back seat of the car and smiled with relief to see she was still there.  
He supposed that the past few day had been quite an ordeal for a six-year-old  
and that it was only a matter of time before it all caught up with her.  
Gathering her in his arms, Fred stirred long enough to note his return before  
wrapping her small arms around her neck and allowing him to carry her out of the  
car.  
  
“Who is that?” Eve asked, finally understanding why Bryan was so insistent in  
returning to his car. The child buried himself in the crook of the man’s  
shoulder, quite content to remain there in her slumber.  
  
“This is Fred,” Bryan explained with tenderness in his eyes as he looked down at  
the sleeping child. “Those Nazgul or whatever you call them, murdered her  
parents in front of her. If I hadn’t been there, God only knows what they would  
have done to her. Those things, they want her, I don’t know why but if I have to  
believe whatever you say to help her, then so be it. I promised I’d keep her  
safe and I will.”  
  
Legolas was staring at the little girl. There was something in her face that  
appeared very familiar but not in the same way he had recognized Boromir  
immediately. His instincts told him that he knew this child but he could not  
place how. She seemed so helpless and fragile. Why would the Nazgul want her?  
What possible reason could they have to harm this child?  
  
"Why would they want a child?" Legolas heard Aaron mirroring his unspoken  
thoughts.  
  
"I don't know," Bryan shrugged in answer as they headed back towards the house.  
"When I put David Saeran under surveillance and heard the conversation he had  
with those Nazgul, I was sure that he was talking about kidnapping a man but  
when I arrived there, Fred's parents were already dead."  
  
"Well I don't think as a rule Nazgul go hunting for anyone unless there is a  
very good reason for it," Aaron replied.  
  
"I think it’s a good idea if we don't talk about this in the open," Eve's gaze  
swept across the darkened street and though everything looked safe enough, she  
knew that even her senses could not be relied upon entirely when there was a  
dark lord at work.  
  
"Good idea," Bryan agreed with that wholeheartedly, eager to get Fred in doors.  
"I've been shot at more times than I would like in the past 24 hours, it would  
be nice to be able to take a breather."  
  
"You have at least learnt to avoid them," Legolas surprised them all by suddenly  
speaking.  
  
"You can speak English?" Bryan stared at the elf whose accent was a little odd  
but was understandable.  
  
"It's his Spanish that's bad," Aaron grinned, glad that Legolas was going to  
make an attempt to speak the language, since Aaron had spent better part of a  
year teaching him. Legolas, like all elves when it came to language, learnt  
quickly. Besides, Aaron had a suspicion that Legolas was exceedingly happy to  
see another member of the Fellowship returned to them, even if he was in the  
form of a reincarnated MI6 agent and thus was willing to make the effort to  
speak to him directly.  
  
"I have been contented with listening until now," Legolas said gingerly. "It is  
good to see you."  
  
"We haven't met before," Bryan pointed out, aware that the elves (he couldn't  
believe he was using that word and worse yet believing it), thought him to be a  
reincarnation of someone called Boromir.  
  
"You were Boromir of Gondor," Legolas said without doubt. "We were comrades  
during the quest."  
  
"If you say so," Bryan replied sceptically. He could believe a great deal after  
seeing the Nazgul but accepting that he had lived a hundred thousand years ago  
as the warrior of an ancient land that no longer existed, well that was too much  
beyond his comprehension.  
  
But then he was having a conversation with an elf.  
  
*************  
  
Tory's head throbbed as if she had been out all night drinking.  
  
Despite having gained enough coherence to rescue Aaron from an intruder, as well  
as entering a bout of verbal fencing with Bryan Miller, whom Tory had come to  
the conclusion was the arrogant ass on the planet, she still felt rather dazed  
from Gandalf opening her mind to the truth of their origins. It was  
disconcerting to know that there was now a wealth of information in her mind  
that was accessible whenever she required it. She looked at the elf Haldir, who  
was apparently sitting in front of her television set, channel surfing so  
rapidly that she could not even begin to look at the screen because the flashes  
were too reminiscent of what Gandalf had done to her, and knew without doubt  
that he was an elf.  
  
Tory rested in her chair, raising her cup to her lips and taking a sip of  
soothing camomile teeth as her throbbing head and her slightly nauseous stomach  
settled themselves in the wake of her ordeal. No, ordeal was the wrong word  
because it had not been torturous or frightening. It had been a revelation. A  
revelation of what Aaron had seen, that made everything he told her had fallen  
into place and shook the foundations of everything, she thought she knew about  
the world. After seeing too much in her relatively young life, it was actually  
a nice surprise to realise that you didn't know everything and could be taken  
off guard.  
  
"Are you feeling better?" Gandalf's comforting voice asked her. He reminded her  
of the grandfather she had lost many years ago, whom by voice alone could  
convince her that nothing was so bad that he could not take it away with a nice  
cup of tea and a long talk.  
  
"A little," she offered him a glance with a slight nod before she took a deeper  
sip of her tea.  
  
"I would have preferred not to open your mind in the manner which I did but we  
are sadly lacking in time," Gandalf explained.  
  
"Is this an apology?" She met his gaze.  
  
"If you would prefer one, I could make it so," he answered.  
  
"That is unnecessary," Tory said with a smile. "You probably saved a  
considerable amount of time. Did you do that to Aaron and Eve?"  
  
"No," Gandalf shook his head. "Aaron made his own discoveries and saved me in  
ways I cannot even begin to describe. I owe him a great deal as does the rest of  
the world, though they do not know it."  
  
"That's sound like quite a story," Tory replied, wanting to know more but  
thinking she could not endure any more information tonight.  
  
"I will tell it to you when this is all over," Gandalf answered. "However, I do  
not lie when I say that you are needed. It is a dark road that we face and we  
will need all the assistance that is available. The evil that we sensed in  
Valinor was slight there but now that we crossed the sea and arrived at this  
land, it has grown in potency. I fear our time is short."  
  
Hearing him talk of evil as if it was something real and tangible sent a cold  
shiver through her spine. For Tory, evil was a lack of empathy. A lack of  
empathy that kept a man from being shackled by rules of morality or impropriety.  
It was the inability to feel compassion for another living thing that allowed  
men to murder, rape, pillage, commit wholesale genocide in the name of religion  
of ideology, it was an utter disregard for anyone else. That to Tory was true  
evil but Gandalf spoke of it as something that had form, that had a voice and  
could direct men as pawns. That frightened her beyond belief.  
  
"I don't know how I can help you," Tory confessed. "I'm just a barrister. The  
law is all that I know."  
  
"Sometimes the desire to do good is all that one needs to change the world," he  
said knowingly. "Yours in a heart burning with that desire, despite the ugliness  
of your work."  
  
"You sense all of that from me?" She looked at him sceptically.  
  
"I have been known to be quite insightful from time to time," Gandalf smiled  
with mischief. "But I am seldom wrong."

Suddenly, the door opened signalling the return of the others who had been  
forced to accompany Bryan to his car when he insisted on going, despite having  
told them little about his encounter with the Nazgul, except that he was  
perfectly aware of what they were and had no difficulty believing that John  
Malcolm had once been a dark lord named Melkor.  
  
Gandalf rose to his feet to meet them, "come Tory, I would like to introduce you  
to someone."  
  
Tory looked at him quizzically but set aside her cup to follow him as he walked  
towards the corridor leading from the door.  
  
Gandalf's attention was fixed firmly on Bryan who surprisingly enough had the  
most adorable, elfin looking child in his arms when he entered her home. The  
girl was fast asleep and appeared perfectly content to be in the MI6 agent's  
arms as she slumbered.  
  
"Hello old friend," Gandalf said with deep affection as he brushed a strand of  
dark hair out of the little girl's face. "Tory, I would like to introduce you to  
the Ringbearer."  



	7. Chapter Six:  An Accounting of Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

 

  


The world had changed and in the opinion of Major Andrei Nikolaevich, not for the better. 

  


  


If he were a young man who was new to the service of his country, it would not have stung so badly the state of the world as he knew it. He would not have known that in times more recent than deep in the past, being a soldier in the service of Mother Russia was something to be proud of. Now, the homeland was contaminated with liberal politicians, too much capitalism and a fierce desire to embrace all the excesses of western civilisation. It had taken less than fifteen years for the pride and dignity of the Russian people to succumb to the joys of Pepsi Cola and Microsoft products. No one remembered anymore what it was like to be a true Russian because they were too interested in tuning to MTV and episodes of Dynasty.

  


  


He remembered the days when Russian was not the embarrassment called the Russian Federation but rather the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republic. Communism may not have wholly ideal but it had made them great and what they did not have was counterbalanced with what they did, which was the knowledge that they were something to be feared and respected. Under the communist regime, Russia had moved from the wooden yoke to the atomic bomb in a span of twenty years. They had fought all their enemies and still managed to be the first to put a man into the space. The Americans may claim the moon but it was the Soviets that gave them the desire to reach for it.

  


  


In those days, the boundaries of the Soviet Union stretched almost from one sea to another. The iron curtain for all its depictions by the West had kept the peace for fifty years even if the Cold War was merely a tool for each superpower to justify their defence budget to their respective governments. Now, the boundaries were less than 300 kilometres away. Kazakhstan was now a nation of its own trading Soviet weapons to races who had no business having them, proudly selling Soviet ingenuity into the hands of child races who behaved angrily when provoked, who would have no compunction against using weapons of mass destruction to make their point.

  


As he took a walk across the military encampment outside of Aleysk, a sizeable town on the fringes of Siberia and the Altay Region, Andrei pulled his coat around his shoulders and leaned into its warmth. He let his gaze sweep across the sky and knew that a storm was coming. Whether or not it would become a blizzard, was not as easy to say. The weather in this part of the world was unpredictable, with the only assurance being that when it came, it was usually cold. Tall conifer trees that stretched for as the eye could see and in the distance, the mountains grazed the sky with its jagged peaks surrounding the facility at Aleysk.

  


 

  


He had been stationed here for almost three years now, having been moved to this remote location because as one of the veterans left over from the previous regime, his hardline status was politically inconvenient. They called him a relic and shipped him here from his native Moscow to languish with the other relics of the Cold War and the former Soviet state. The Aleysk base was home to thirty Class 204 SS-18s intercontinental ballistic missiles. Though it was likely that they would never be used, the danger of international terrorism have brought forth the directive that such bases would be protected. With so many former territories that were now foreign powers in their own right near their borders, it was a sensible precaution.

  


The temperature was -1 degree this morning and though it was very cold, it was nowhere as cold as a Siberian winter could be. Andrei did not mind the cold as much as he minded being away from Moscow and his family but he did not wish his wife to languish in this icy landscape with him and her bid her to remain at the capital with his two children. As he walked back to this office, he felt the cold air invigorate him somewhat and give him a little more bounce in his step. At forty-five years of age, he needed all the bounce he could get and made good speed as he walked briskly to the main building.

  


Upon arriving at his office, he was greeted by young soldiers who were of the opinion that their posting here was a great honor. Andrei guessed it could be supposed that way since they were not sent here in disgrace and he was. Accepting their salutes, Andrei listened to their reports with half hearted interest before telling them that he would see them all later in the day under the guise that he had important paperwork to do in his office. In truth, he just could not stomach their enthusiasm and his important paperwork was a half empty bottle of Vodka in the last drawer of his filing cabinet. He was after all Russian.

  


Upon entering the small office that was his private sanctum, he noted that the mail had arrived and perched on top of the official communiqués and other letters in important looking envelopes, was a box wrapped in plain brown paper. It was not very big but had the stamp of a military courier, which meant that it was most likely from his wife. Lowering himself into his chair, he ignored all the other envelopes and preceded to tear the wrapping off the small parcel, hoping that it was the biscuits she made. He could imagine her standing at the kitchen, wonderful aromas wafting through the room but none so enticing as the smell of her perfume.

  


He missed her very much at that moment.

  


Inside the box was a cake tin, which pleased him a great deal and prompted him to pull open the lid almost immediately. However nestled in between the biscuits sprinkled with cinnamon and made with almond was another surprise. Andrei raised a brow as he retrieved the small velvet box and opened it. Resting comfortably in the satin groove was a ring. It was undoubtedly a man's ring with intricate patterns running across its smooth surface. It could be gold he supposed but doubted that his wife could afford it if it was. 

  


There was an accompanying note, which Andrei unfolded and read as he palmed the trinket in his hand. 

  
__

To Andrei,

  


I bought this for you at an antique sale. It is to remind you that I love you even though we are apart.

  


Love Elena.

  


Andrei Nikolaevich smiled and placed the new ring on his finger, reminding himself that he would have to return the pleasure when he saw his beloved Elena next, completely unaware that he was the final seal of an unholy triumvirate.

  


*************

  


  


"You can put her in here," Tory whispered to Bryan as she led him to her guest bedroom.

  


  


It was a room bathed in warm colors that took on amber glow in the dim light emanating from the side table next to the bed. The bedroom furniture was mostly oak and judging by the style, family heirlooms. A thick heavy quilt with a cheerful floral motive covered the sheets and Bryan could not deny that it was a far more suitable place for Fred then the seedy hotel room that they had left behind. He pulled back the covers and placed the little girl, who had not stirred from her slumber, onto the sheets gently. Tucking Fred in despite her obliviousness to his ministrations, Bryan wondered where this emotion of tenderness had come from inside him. 

  


  


His world was hard and bloody. He had killed and been almost killed more times than he could count, even before the events of the past two days. There had been no need in him for anyone else, no desire for long-term relationships with women or with men. His most emotionally invested relationship was with his brother and he knew that had come from being called to protect Frank for most of his life. Their father had died early on and their mother struggled to support them both. 

  


  


Bryan had joined the army instead of going to university, preferring the military to pay for his education. Taking the burden of their mother, he had paid Frank’s way through school. When he joined the SAS and his career in MI6 made it difficult to be there, Frank had understood and moved on with his life, aware that his brother would be absent for a great deal of it. He even understood when Bryan was absent for their mother's funeral and his wedding. 

  


  


Now here was Fred, whom had been in his life for no more than two days and yet knew without doubt, he would die to protect her and keep her safe. Bryan wished he knew what was happening to him because since the child had entered his life, he was constantly surprising himself. It was very disconcerting.

  


  


"Turn off the lights," Bryan told, Tory somewhat meekly as they were preparing to leave the room. "She doesn’t like to sleep with it on."

  


  


Tory raised a brow at that, not because of Fred’s unusual sleeping habits but rather the fact that Bryan knew enough about the child to be aware of it. She did not seem him as the domesticated type, in fact after their previous words together, was somewhat surprised that he was even housebroken. She could tell straight away that he was not married and would be extremely surprised if she was wrong about that assertion. He was one of these men who were probably a workaholic with all his energy devoted to the job. She knew the type because she was not that different from him.

  


  


"Do you have any children?" Tory asked after she had closed the door behind them now that they were out of the room, heading towards the staircase. She doubted that he had any but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  


  


"No," Bryan answered tautly, feeling a little uncomfortable at having his tenderness for Fred privy to observation and worse yet, discussion. 

  


  


"You’re very good with her," Tory commented, with no insult intended though she was rather amused by the fact that he was so unsettled about having to answer questions regarding his sentimental side. "You look like you would probably make a very good dad."

  


  


"Right," Bryan stiffened, unable to endure this conversation any further. He was suddenly feeling very off balance and he did not like how that felt one bit. "Let’s keep from going any further. I’m just keeping her safe. As soon as we sort things out, she goes to her family, I’m sure she must have them."

  


  


He capped that statement with a hasty retreat down the stairs, so that he could join the others as well as escape her questions.

  


  


"Oh come on," Tory said following him closely, enjoying this immensely. Instinct told her that it was not often that this man was taken off guard and the lawyer in her loved it too much to let it pass without comment. Besides, how many witnesses had she left squirming in the wake of a demanding cross-examination? And that was nowhere as fun as this.

  


  


"Its not so terrible having a tender side is it?" She asked seriously, "I mean its sweet quite really."

  


  


Bryan turned around and gave Tory a long, searching look as if he were sizing her up all over again and it was delivered with a hardened stare that made her flinch involuntarily. For a few seconds he did not say anything and then the corner of his lips curled upwards ever so slightly though he never let it turn into a smile. 

  


  


"Have you quite sufficiently amused yourself?" He said after a moment, a gleam in his eyes she could not quite fathom. If she did not know better, Tory would almost swear that it was smug.

  


  


"Oh yes, quite well" she replied with equal satisfaction, since she was not about to intimidated by his powerful gaze.

  


  


"Then shall we join the others? I would like to hear the rest of this fairy tale I've stumbled into before the night is out. Ladies first," Bryan stepped aside in an effort to be gallant. 

  


  


"Now you have manners?" She gave him a look as she descended the steps ahead of him. "I seem to recall that you were severely lacking in it when you broke into my house."

  


  


"I did not break in," Bryan said smoothly, unperturbed by her efforts to annoy him. If she kept that up, he was going to start liking her. "I rang the door bell, it was Eve who suddenly became one of Charlie’s Angels."

  


  


"Hey that’s my girl you’re talking about," Aaron who passing by the foot of the staircase as the two descended, remarked. 

  


  


"Well she does know how to take care of herself," Bryan commented, not intending to insult the very capable if somewhat acerbic Eve McCaughley and Robert had been right, she was a looker. Of this eclectic bunch of people he had encountered since entering this house, Eve was probably the one person Bryan could relate most with. Like him, she was a dealt with the seamier side of life and despite their brief acquaintance and confrontational first meeting; Bryan had come to respect her a great deal. 

  


  


"Kept me out of trouble more time than I can count," Aaron agreed proudly. "I’m sure I’m going to have masculinity issues."

  


  


"You had that before you met Eve," Tory quipped. 

  


  


"Oh thank you," Aaron glared at her with mock dislike, "remind me again why Stuart left you?"

  


  


"It was my singular wit," she flashed the psychiatrist a smile. 

  


  


"Yeah," Aaron’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he exchanged a brief glance with Bryan who offered him an expression of complete sympathy, "that’s one way to put it."

  


  


************

  


  


Even though it was well past midnight, no one felt like sleeping because there was too much to discuss. Each had differing pieces of the same puzzle and they had to work together to learn the source of the darkness that was quickly casting its shadow upon the world. While Gandalf and Bryan had exchanged some information, it was clear that a detailed account of events had to be made so that they could understand better what it was they faced. While the Istar suspected a good deal of what Bryan already knew, he wished to hear the man make a full explanation not only for himself, but for the benefit of all who would be embarking upon this perilous quest with them.

  


  


"Okay," Aaron sat up straight in the sofa next to Eve after the pizza Tory had ordered to feed her unexpected guests had been consumed in the living room. "Gandalf you want to tell us how you knew that was the Ringbearer up there?"

  


  
  
"Her name is Fred," Bryan stated firmly from the dining suite chair he was seated on with his legs propped up on another, much to Tory’s annoyance.

  


  


"Sorry," Aaron apologized, aware of how protective Bryan felt about the little girl. 

  


  


Gandalf sat up in his wing chair, grateful that Tory had waived her no smoking rule in her house for his sake, as he enjoyed his pipe. "When I saw Bryan, it made sense to me at last, the meaning of Galadriel’s poem."

  


  


"Galadriel’s poem?" Bryan asked, having no idea that the old man was talking about but supposed he would get briefed in due course. For now, he was interested in the answer. 

  


  


"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "Prior to leaving Valinor, Galadriel, one of our wisest saw a vision that indicated that this world was in serious peril and that the time was drawing near when all the lands will breathed in flame."

  


  


"She had a vision of a nuclear war," Aaron explained, seeing Bryan and Tory about to speak. Bryan in particular seemed to be very troubled by this terrible portent of doom. "She let me see the vision and what I saw was the works, fallout, radiation sickness, the nuclear winter. Our worse nightmare."

  


  


"It was a nuclear war?" Bryan sat up straighter. "Are you certain?"

  


  


"I’ve seen movies," Aaron returned. "If that was not what it looks like then it was pretty damn good representation. They have no idea what atomic bomb is in Valinor, Bryan. They can’t even conceive something as dangerous as a warhead being built."

  


  


"Welcome to the human race," Eve frowned. 

  


  


"The vision also revealed a riddle," Gandalf took up the reigns of explanation once more. "Most of it dealt with the evil rising in this realm, sire and child perpetuating each other but there was one part of it that meant little to me until I saw you. 

  


 

  
__

The one who made it, the one unmade it and the one was unmade by it

  


The circle of gold binds them together,

  


He who failed in one life must redeem himself in another

  


To protect the one he did not protect before,   
__

To save the world and give peace at last to the Son of Gondor

  


Gandalf recited the final lines of the riddle until now, had only been known to himself and Aaron. No one else had heard it in its entirety until this moment. Bryan did not understand but expected Gandalf would explain if the expression of understanding that filled the eyes of Legolas and Haldir was anything to go by. 

  


  


"You were the Son of Gondor," Gandalf stared at Bryan. "It was you who was unmade by it, it being the One Ring."

  


  


"And if the one who made it was Sauron..." Haldir stared to stay.

  


  


"Then the one who _unmade_ it must be Frodo," Legolas finished. 

  


  


"What do you mean unmade?" Bryan stiffened, feeling something in the very core of him that was deeply affected by this revelation. "How was I, I mean how was this Boromir unmade by it?" he demanded.

  


  


Legolas and Gandalf exchanged reluctant glances, uncertain how they were going to tell this man that in another life, he had been willing to betray an oath of protection to a comrade because the lure of the One Ring had been too much for him.

  


  


"The ring was the most powerful weapon in existence at the time," Aaron spoke before either of the immortals could, "Boromir was a warrior of Gondor and for God only knows how long, he had been defending his people against Sauron who was hell bent and destroying everything. The ring uses a person’s desire even if the intention is good to corrupt and Boromir really wanted to help his people. During the quest to destroy the thing, the ring overcame him and for awhile, he lost control."

  


  


  
  
"How?" Bryan sensed that Aaron was trying to spare him some unpleasantness but Bryan needed to know, something inside of him compelled him to learn the truth.

  


  


"He tried to take the ring from Frodo," Aaron said quietly. "It overcame his mind for a brief time."

  


  


"But that was enough for Boromir to try and kill the ringbearer wasn’t it?" Bryan guessed accurately the truth.

  


  


"Yes," Legolas nodded. "Boromir was lost to us but briefly but he did not harm the ring bearer and he defended his friends with his life. We all felt its power drawing us, whispering its lies in our minds but no one more than he had a greater need for it. Boromir wanted to save his people and he did. He died with honor and we mourned him because he was one of us, one of the Fellowship. Even the ringbearer when his quest was done, did not blame Boromir of Gondor for what he had done, because Frodo knew all too well of what the ring was capable."

  


  


Bryan rose to his feet, wanting to balk at how impossible this all was. This was a fairy tale! Just like he had told Tory, none of it could be true! Yet, even as he denied it, deep inside himself in that place where not even he dared to look, he knew that there was kernel of truth to it. All his life, he had been driven to finish anything he set his mind too. When he swore to his mother that he would protect Frank, it had been more than just a son’s promise to his mother, it was an oath and everything else in his life was met with the same dedication. Was it all because in a previous life he had failed? Is this where this desire to protect Fred at all costs had come from, because once before he had failed to do so?

  


  


"I cannot accept this," he wanted to walk upstairs and take Fred with him but even if he did, he knew that he would still be enslaved to some ancient programming left in his mind from another age. 

  


  


"Bryan," Aaron spoke up, the psychiatrist in him emerging in full force. "You’re not Boromir. That man is dead, a hundred thousand years in the past. You are who you are right now at this moment in time. Okay, you have his soul but you have the power to shape that soul, it doesn’t shape you."

  


  
  
"How would you know?" Bryan hissed. "How the bloody hell would you know anything?"

  


  


"Because I do!" Aaron snapped. "Because who I was once before arrived to late to save Boromir, you stubborn bastard. Who I was in the past did not save Boromir and that dogged Aragorn all his life. I look at you now and I know I’m not letting you go half-cocked to do something stupid. I have this impression that in the past, I didn’t try hard enough and it ended badly for both of us. So you will sit down and accept it because we are on the brink of Armageddon and I don’t have time this for this shit! We need you! We need your expertise!"

  


  


The room was deathly silent for a lengthy pause as both men glared at each other, with everyone else strangely silent. 

  


  


It was Bryan who finally broke the silence, "if you wake Fred up with your shouting, my _expertise_ will break your neck."

  


  


"Well," Aaron straightened up and saw Bryan deliver that remark with a faint smile, "as long as we got that clear," he said taking a cautionary step backward from the man.

  


  


"Were they like this back then too?" Eve whispered in Legolas’ ear. 

  


  


The elf rolled his eyes in weary resignation; "you cannot even begin to imagine."

  


  


"Alright," Eve broke in, "now that this macho bullshit is past us, can we get on with it?"

  


  


"Nicely put Eve," Gandalf gave her a look as Aaron and Bryan settled down in their respective corners. 

  


  


"Okay," Bryan sighed loudly. "So my past life aside, I am going to venture a guess that David Saeran is this Sauron you keep talking about."

  


  


"There is some logic to it," Legolas replied, "If Morgoth was returned to this world, he would done the same for his minions in this realm to aid him in his efforts. Sauron was chief among his agents."

  


  


"The question is how many has he brought with him?" Haldir addressed those who could speak elvish and was pleased to see Gandalf offering a swift translation to those who could not.

  


  


"Well we know that the Nine are here," Gandalf remarked. "Bryan has seen them."

  


  


"What is this Nine you keep talking about?" Tory asked. 

  


  


"They are evil agents of Sauron," Legolas explained. "They are neither living or dead. They exist in shadow."

  


  
  
"And that means?" Tory looked about her.

  


  


"Their invisible and they can’t be killed," Eve interjected helpfully. 

  


  


"But if he intends to take over the world in a nuclear war, he can’t just be relying on the Nine," Aaron replied. "Legolas, you told me that during the War of Ring, he had armies."

  


  


"He still does," Bryan interrupted, being able to shed some light on this point. "For the last 18 months I’ve been tracking a terrorist group called Black Serpent, now all evidence that I’ve gathered and I grant you, I haven’t gathered very much, indicates that Black Serpent is connected to Malcolm Industries."

  


  


"Of course it is," Legolas said confidently. "During the war, one of Sauron’s allies fought under the banner of the Black Serpent."

  


  


"Yes," Gandalf nodded, "I remember."

  


  


"So he’s using this group to create chaos all over the globe?" Tory asked, somewhat overwhelmed by what she was hearing.

  


  


"It would be consistent with how he sought to divide Middle earth during the War of the Ring," Legolas replied. 

  


  


"First he sets off all these brush fires across the world," Bryan stood up and began to pace. "The Middle East is a mess. The Gulf looks like its ready to flare up at any moment. Terrorist attacks are on the rise across America, Europe and Australia. If it’s not about religion, it’s about territory. Everyone is tearing at each other, trying to stop the violence by perpetuating it. It’s a bloody cycle."

  


  
  
"But it is not Sauron’s ways to simply allow man to destroy themselves," Haldir pointed out. "He will move his armies in this chaos."

  


  
  
"His softening us up," Eve declared. "That’s what this is. He’s softening us up so that when he finally decides to make his move, it’s going to decisive and final."

  


  


"Malcolm Industries is big," Tory declared. "Its annual report last year recorded profits in the _billions_ and this was after the building in New York was blown sky high. With that kind of money and resources, he could fund an army."

  


  


"But is it an army that’s going to follow him if he decides to send the world into a nuclear winter?" Aaron countered, "Even mercenaries love their own skin."

  


  
  
"So where does Fred fit into all this?" Bryan found himself asking. 

  


  


"Oh that is easily answered," Gandalf replied glancing towards the ceiling as if he were able to see through the mortar at the child sleeping in her room. "Because of the One Ring, Sauron and Frodo will always be connected, even in this incarnation. I suspect the moment she was born, he knew of her existence though it may have taken time to find her. Now that his plans are so close to fruition, he dare not risk that she will be the catalyst that brings about his downfall. He underestimated Frodo Baggins before and it cost him dearly, I believe that he wants Fred in his possession for no other reason than to ensure that this time, she will have no opportunity to meddle in his affairs."

  


  


"But she’s a child," Tory exclaimed in horror. "What possible threat could she be to him?"

  


  


"Frodo was a hobbit," Legolas remarked, "the shire folk were the little people, absolutely inconsequential by Sauron’s reckoning and yet it took one hobbit to bring him to utter ruin. He will not take that chance again."

  


  


"And yet by moving against her, he has brought us together so that we can defeat him," Gandalf added. "I think there is a certain poetic irony about it."

  


  


"What does this Saeran look like?" Aaron asked out of curiosity. 

  


  


"Hang on, I think I’ve got a recent magazine he was on," Tory said rifling through the magazine holder next to the chair and tossed the copy of Time in the middle of the coffee table so that they could see the face of the enemy.

  


  


"Hey," Eve noted as she admired the smiling face of David Saeran on the glossy page, "cute."

  


  


"Isn’t he?" Tory sighed wistfully, "isn’t that just the way though? He’s young, scandalously handsome, wealthy beyond belief, unmarried, not to mention terribly charismatic and he turns out to be a dark lord who wants to rule the world. Men like this is why I no longer wish to date."

  


  


***********

  


  


Deep in her slumber, she could see them.

  


  


Dark shapes moving through the night, twin orbs of light illuminating their way as they moved through the quiet streets, drawing closer with each second. They were drawn to more than just her now, Fred did not understand but she knew without doubt that she was no longer safe. She remembered in some distant past when the rumble of a car’s engine was preceded by the sounds of horses in relentless pursuit. She had felt the chill of them against the skin, felt their darkness contaminating her spirit, when their poison pierced her body. She had been someone else then; someone whose life had been changed forever by the glitter of a gold and an eye breathed in flame. 

  


  


They had branded her soul, marked her for all time so that no matter what skin she was born into, they would always know her by sight and be drawn to her. She did not know why the anonymity with Bryan had been destroyed but she knew without doubt they were coming. 

  


  


**********

  


  


Fred’s scream tore through their chatter like a siren’s scream.

  


  


Bryan was out of his chair and crossing the floor towards the stairs with speed that impressed even the elves. Following close behind was Aaron as he hurried upstairs, taking two steps at a time. There was utter terror in that scream and for an insane moment, Bryan thought that the enemy had found them despite the fact that no one had known he was coming here to Tory Harding’s home. She was still screaming his name when he reached the door to the guestroom he had left her and pushed open the door to find her sitting up in her bed, tears streaking her face.

  


  


"Bryan!" She cried out, arms outstretched in readiness to embrace him when he reached her.

  


  
  
"Fred, what is it?" Bryan demanded a small measure of relief flooding into his being when he saw that she was alone in the room and there were no monsters with glowing eyes in the darkness with her. 

  


  
  
"They’re coming Bryan!" She whimpered, allowing him to sweep her into his arms upon reaching her. 

  


  


"Are you sure?" Bryan asked, knowing well enough about her intuitions not to question it. The last time it had saved both their lives. 

  


  


"They’re coming! I saw it in my dreams!" She insisted. 

  


  


"What’s coming?" Aaron asked as he appeared next to Bryan. 

  


  


"Saeran’s men," Bryan retorted hurrying to the window and looking outside. Beyond the grounds of the house, he saw only an empty street and with little indication of danger.

  


  


"Fred luv," Bryan looked at the weeping child in his arms, "are you sure? There’s nothing out there."

  


  


"They’re coming!" She looked at him with nothing less than terror in her eyes.

  


  


"Has she been wrong before?" Aaron asked not about to discount anything despite how benign the street appeared outside.

  


  


"No," Bryan said grimly. "If she thinks something is coming, I think we’d better pay attention."

  


  


"Aaron!" Eve shouted from downstairs.

  


  


Aaron and Bryan made eye contact briefly before both men hurried from the room, with Aaron leading the way and Bryan following with Fred still in his arms. Eve’s voice was filled with urgency and Aaron came quickly to the conclusion that perhaps Fred was not mistaken in her belief that danger was eminent. They reached the living room in seconds and saw that Haldir and Legolas were at the window, peering outside while Gandalf seemed deep in thought. Aaron had known the wizard long enough to guess that whatever senses Gandalf had in his keeping had also sensed the same danger as Fred.

  


  


"What is it?" Aaron asked.

  


  


"We must leave," Gandalf turned his focussed gaze upon the younger man. "I sense them coming."

  


  


"So do I," Legolas confirmed from the window. "They are close."

  


  


Bryan set Fred down, who was rather overwhelmed by the fact that they were suddenly more than two people. She left Bryan and drifted towards Gandalf in particular, her blue eyes fixed upon him. He felt very familiar to her in a way she could not explain. Gandalf in turn lowered his gaze to Fred, noting the child’s attention was on him.

  


  


"Hello there Fred," he greeted her warmly. "My name in Gandalf."

  


  


"Hello Gandalf," she looked at him, still wearing that expression of knowing.

  


  


"Don’t worry yourself too much over all this," he said warmly. "We’re all your friends here and we will protect you from him."

  


  


Her eyes widened and as those blue orbs stared at him in understanding, Gandalf could very well imagine that it was Frodo Baggins staring at him.

  


  


"You know about him," she said softly, whispering so that Bryan who was more interested in talking to Eve at that moment, would not hear her.

  


  


"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "I know about him. Sometimes, I see him myself."

  


  


"He made them hurt mummy and daddy," Fred replied in a tiny voice. "I don’t want him to hurt Bryan too."

  


  


"He won’t," Gandalf answered lowering himself so that he could make eye contact with her, "I promise."

  


  


Fred started to feel a little better because when Gandalf made a promise, she had a feeling he would keep it no matter what.

  


  


**********

  


  


"We’re leaving Tory," Aaron told her and the lawyer could only stare at him dazed before running to get her coat and her handbag, unable to think of anything else she should take during this sudden flight.

  


  


"Turn off all the lights," Bryan barked and Eve complied, hurrying to the light switch and going through the process of ensuring that they were in darkness in a matter of seconds. If not for one remaining light whose illumination was low enough to be safe, they would be unable to see anything but silhouettes.

  


  


"What is the plan?" Eve asked no one in particular when she returned.

  


  


"The plan is, we get as far away from here as possible," Bryan stated firmly. "Hopefully before we have to get through them."

  


  


"Good idea," Aaron agreed glancing at Fred whose eyes were darting about frantically, more conscious of the impending danger than any of them, elves included. "We’ve got a kid with us."

  


  


"We must hurry," Legolas urged as he kept a vigil at the window. With his elven sight, he could see better in the darkness than any of them. I sense that they are very close."

  


  


"Right," Bryan nodded, not about to question how the elf was so sure of this because he was grateful for the warning. Instead he turned to Eve and asked, "where are all those weapons you brought in here?"

  


  


"Here," she said already at the canvas duffle bag she had unloaded from the back of the car shortly after Bryan’s arrival. His accounting of how he had been evading gunfire for the past twenty-four hours had made Eve feel strangely vulnerable and she had retrieved the cache of weapons that she brought with her from the _Anemone_. During their time in Valinor, the guns had languished in storage with Eve thinking she would never have to use them again. However, with their return to the modern world and the nature of their business here, Eve had felt it prudent to bring them along.

  


  


Meanwhile, the elves were already arming their bows, preparing for the worst when it came. Legolas and Haldir both kept their attention fixed on what was transpiring outside and while it seemed quiet for the moment, they could sense the danger closing in on them. Time was dwindling; it was pressing up against them like the walls of the room and both counted themselves fortunate that they had taken the liberty of retrieving their bows and quiver when they learnt that the Nazgul were loose upon this world. 

  


  


"What have you got?" Bryan asked Eve as he lowered himself next to her while she rummaged through the contents of the unzipped the bag. 

  


  


"Just a shotgun and a couple of handguns. I have lots of ammunition though. Here Aaron, take this," Eve checked her police issue Barretta and ensured that the weapon was cocked and loaded before handing it to Aaron. "You still remember how to shoot one of these things?"

  


  


"Point and fire, I remember," Aaron nodded feeling the weight of it in his hand and remembering immediately, his intense dislike for this type of weapon. 

  


  
  
"Is he joking?" Bryan stared at Aaron, suddenly wary that a weapon of that caliber should be in the hands of someone whose knowledge of guns was confined to aiming and pulling the trigger. In unskilled hands, the barretta could be almost as dangerous as the creatures hunting them. 

  


  


"Nope," Eve shook her head, "he’s not."

  


  


"Hey, this of it this way," Aaron said sarcastically, reacting to the slight made at his expense, "if I shoot either one of you, being a medical doctor I can patch you up."

  


  


"That’s comforting to know," Bryan said frowning before turning to Eve again, "pass me the shot gun."

  


  


Eve handed him the weapon as well as the box out of shells that went with it. Bryan admired the modifications she had done to it, namely sawing off the edge so it was easier for her to handle. Eve had armed herself with a 45 calibre automatic handgun. 

  


  
  
"I must say," Bryan replied looking over her small arsenal, "I am impressed. You come well prepared."

  


  


"Nothing us American girls love more than our guns," Eve said tautly.

  


  


"I do not think these weapons will avail you much protection against the enemy," Gandalf interrupted at this point. "They are not elven blessed, you will not harm the Nazgul."

  


  


"The Nazgul may not come alone," Bryan retorted. "The men that came after us this morning were definitely human. I know because I killed two of them."

  


  


"They are here!" Legolas called out over his shoulder just as orbs of light flooded the dark confines of the house. The sound of distant engines approaching fast filled the air and all was quiet until Fred broke the silence by running to Bryan.

  


  


"We have to go now!" Fred said tugging at his hand insistently towards the door.

  


  


"She’s right," Aaron could not fault the child’s logic. "Let’s move before they get any closer!" 

  


  


"Fred, how about you stay with me and Gandalf," Tory said as she approached the little girl and took her hand. Tory knew that the others would be busy trying to get them out of their present predicament in one piece and since she had no experience with using a gun, the best that she could contribute to their escape was to ensure that Fred was safe. 

  


  


Bryan raised his eyes and met Tory’s gaze, offering that unfathomable look he had given her earlier when they had put Fred to bed. She thought he was going to speak but instead made eye contact with a thoughtful expression on his face. For a moment, Tory did not know what to say under the power of that gaze. Fortunately, time was short and he concluded the moment with a slight nod that inspired Tory to flash him a little smile. It was enough. 

  


  


"Let’s go!" Aaron prompted the others and they began moving quickly towards the door. The lights outside were becoming brighter, an indication of how close the enemy was approaching, and the powerful revving of engines grew louder in their ears. They would barely have enough time to escape with their lives. 

  


  


"Its going to be a tight squeeze," Eve declared as they emerged into the night, a strange procession of bodies moving down the front steps. It was cold outside and the chill only added to the urgency they felt as they saw the bright headlights almost upon them. 

  


  


"We’ll manage!" He retorted as he ran down the sidewalk towards the lime green Ford Galaxy which he had cursed as being the worst car Eve could have bought until now. For once the fact that the car was built like a sailboat had some advantage. No Toyota was going to fit eight people in any reality. It would be a tight fit as Eve said but at least they _could_.

  


  


"I’ll drive!" Aaron declared out, prompting Eve to toss the keys in his direction and as he caught it with one hand, heard someone mumbling behind him that made him retort sharply, "I heard that Legolas!" 

  


  


Reaching the car, they began to pile in just as the black sedans carrying the enemy came to a screeching halt outside Tory’s house. There were at least three cars and no sooner than they had come to a stop, men began pilling out of their innards. Meanwhile, Gandalf had taken charge of Fred, holding the child in his lap as Haldir and Legolas quickly surrounded him on either side. Aaron sat behind the wheel and thanked God that the car’s front seats was similar to the back, it meant that at least four people could squeeze in front if necessary. He felt Eve pressing against him as he brought the engines to life. She immediately got up on her knees and pushed open the sunroof, surveying the situation with her gun drawn. 

  


  
  
Her breath caught when she saw them for the first time. They were the last to emerge from the cars and Eve counted all nine of them turning directly to face her. Through the slits of their pasty masks, she saw the point of red piercing through the night like a knife. For an absurd moment, she thought Michael Myers, the insane killer from the Halloween movies suddenly acquiring eight other companions. It was as if they knew exactly where she and her companions were because they ignored the house and stared towards the car. 

  


  


"Get this goddamn moving!" Eve shouted as the Nazgul started towards them. 

  


  


If the humans working for Saeran were not alerted to their presence yet, then Eve’s demanded accomplished that adequately. As soon as the enemy turned towards the car, Bryan leapt into action having shoved Tory into the front seat next to Eve. They needed time to get away and those men would reach them in a matter of seconds. He cocked the shotgun and fired into the thickest part of the group. The initial shot sent one man flying back from the blast and gave the other reason to pause. However, while their human pursuers retreated, the Nazgul did not. They kept coming.

  


  


"Bryan get in the car!" Eve shouted as the first sounds of return gunfire exploded around their ears. "I’ll cover you!" 

  


  
  
She released a barrage of bullets at the enemy as Bryan leapt into the car to avoid the return gunfire. He felt a flare of pain on his shoulder and grunted softly, ignoring the white-hot burning as best he could because this was not the best time to be worrying about wounds. A headlight shattered and the impact of lead against the steel could be heard repeatedly. Aaron reversed immediately, trying to get enough space to avoid driving through the Nazgul who were coming towards them, relatively unconcerned at the bullets. Eve was forced to lower herself into the compartment of the car as the gunfire was turned in her direction, leaving Bryan to cover her retreat in perfect tandem.

  


  


"This damn street’s a cul-de-sac!" Aaron swore. "I’m going to have to go through them."

  


  


"Do so!" Legolas declared and pushed himself out of the window, until half his body was hanging out of it. Though it was difficult to manage, the elf was able to string his bow and take aim at the Nazgul as the Ford began to surge forward, closing the distance between them. Haldir seeing Legolas’ intent and aware that he was the only other person save Gandalf, who had a means of slowing down Sauron’s dark agents, followed the Prince’s lead and placed himself in the precarious position beyond the window of this infernal contraption.

  


  


The arrows flew threw the air with surprising swiftness. A terrible screech, like a banshees wail screamed through the night as the elven blessed arrows met their target, striking the lead Nazgul in the chest. The realization that they had been hurt immediately cautioned the others and their pace slowed as the car continued its breakneck speed towards them. Legolas’ speed with the bow had not altered much in over a hundred thousand years and any one who thought that a bow was dated in comparison to a gun, had cause to regret it as arrow after arrow struck the Nazgul. The arrows would not kill them because it took a greater power than an elven blessing to destroy the dark creatures but it hurt sufficiently them.

  


  


Seeing that the arrows from both elves were physically injuring the Nine, the human agents of Sauron began turning their guns towards them. Bryan and Eve were quick to counter this, using their guns to lay down a barrage of suppressing fire that kept them from getting a clear shot at either Legolas or Haldir. Very soon, they had soon ensured that the enemy was seeking cover to avoid being hit. 

  


  


Meanwhile, Aaron was navigating through the Nazgul and humans who were bent on stopping the car. He jammed his foot down on the accelerator and promptly drove into the last remaining obstacle in his way. This was a Nazgul who ran forward and threw himself across the bonnet of the car, grabbing on tightly as his body landed with a dull thud. The pasty face masked creature looked through the windscreen at Aaron and then at passengers in the front seat. His crimson gaze seemed to sparkle when he caught sight of the tiny face holding Gandalf tightly before smashing his fist through the glass.

  


  


"Hit the brakes!" Bryan shouted as he fired at the Nazgul only to see the bullets did little if any good. The Ringwraith took the shots as the car left his companions behind, with little more than a flinch.

  


  


"I’m not stopping this car," Aaron shouted as he shook himself, trying to dislodge any pieces of glass that had fortunately not cut him to ribbons. "Legolas! Get him off!" 

  


  


Legolas craned further out, until he was almost kneeling out the window and fired his bow once more. The arrow struck the Nazgul in the throat and once again that terrible scream of pain followed, coupled with black fury. It clawed at the projectile imbedded in its body and as Aaron swung around the corner, were unable to maintain his grip. The Nazgul’s body flew off the car, tumbling away into the darkness and colliding with what sounded like rubbish bins. Aaron did not care; he was more interested in what he could see in his rear view mirror, which was nothing. They were not being followed. Hopefully, the encounter with elven arrows had given the Nazgul reason to pause. 

  


  


"Is everyone alright?" Aaron asked, trying to keep his eyes on the road but the doctor in him would not be satisfied until he knew that every one of his comrades was safe. There had been a lot of bullets flying back and forth as evidenced by the bullet holes in the body of the car and the fact that he had only one headlight. He was certain that when time permitted, they would find a good deal more. Anyone of those could have been lethal.

  


  


"I’m okay," Eve said to Aaron and noted the sigh of relief at that news. 

  


  
  
"Fred?" Bryan called out to the back seat. "How are you doing luv?"

  


  


"She is quite safe with me," Gandalf answered offering the child a warm smile. "She’s been very brave. Haven’t you Fred?"

  


  


"I’m okay Bryan," her small voice returned and she peeked over the edge of the front seat to deliver Bryan a smile. 

  


  


"Oh God Bryan!" Tory exclaimed when she noticed a glimmer of something slick on his shoulder caught the light. "You’re shot!" 

  


  


"What the hell did I just ask?" Aaron accused him with annoyance. "Didn’t I ask if everyone was okay?"

  


  


"Steady on," Bryan looked at him. "Its a flesh wound."

  


  
  
"Does it hurt?" Fred asked, her small face contracting with worry. She did not like to think of Bryan injured in any way. She had seen how her mummy and daddy had looked after the bad men had shot them and Fred did not think she could bear seeing Bryan hurt that way either.

  


  


"Just stings," Bryan shrugged, determined to allay Fred’s fears. "I’ll be alright."

  


  


"You want to let me be the judge of that?" Aaron countered, believing no gunshot wound was minor. "I am after all the doctor here."

  


  


"I thought you were a psychiatrist," Bryan returned amused by the man’s reaction. 

  


  


"He moonlights," Eve explained but she felt the same blase about Bryan’s wound. She had been shot a couple of times during her career as a police woman and it was never as bad as those who were unaccustomed to the life might think. "Aaron, it really doesn’t look too bad. I’m sure it just passed through without hitting anything vital."

  


  


"We should stop when we have drawn a little further away from the Nazgul Aaron," Legolas advised in case Aaron was inclined to stop the vehicle. "We surprised them on this occasion but I do not think that it will be long before they come in search of us again."

  


  
  
"I would like to know how he was able to find us," Haldir remarked.

  


  


"Any easy enough matter for Sauron," Gandalf replied. "If he could sense Frodo’s soul in this child, I do not doubt that he was able to sense me."

  


  


"I doubt he would be that specific," Eve replied. "He may know you’re around but exactly? That’s a little coincidental."

  


  


"Yes but if he knows that Gandalf here is likely to be with Aaron and there’s every reason to believe that after what you told me happened in New York, then Tory’s would be the natural place to look." Bryan offered as he flinched a little at the pain that was hard to ignore now that his adrenaline was no longer pumping.

  


  


"Well we need to get off the streets," Aaron said glancing at Bryan and not liking the slick patch on the fabric of his coat that was becoming larger by the minute. "I need to look at your arm and don’t give me any of that crap about you being able to handle it. The bleeding is getting worse."

  


  


"Alright then," Bryan said with a sigh, aware that this doctor was not going to take no for an answer. "I suggest we get out of town. The less people who see us the better."

  


  


"Head south," Tory spoke up suddenly. 

  


  


"South?" Aaron looked at her in question. "What’s south?"

  


  


"A client whose summer home is presently unoccupied," she replied automatically. 

  


  


"How do you know?" 

  


  


"Because he’s behind bars," Tory answered before adding, "I couldn’t get him bail."


	8. Chapter Eight: Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

It was almost two hours following their return from London and the mood in the Westernham home of Ronald Banks was one of anticipation. 

  


With the exception of Bryan, Aaron and the rest of his companions were gathered around the kitchen table as the former psychiatrist apprised the others of what had transpired during the scouting expedition to Saeran’s estate in Windsor. Unfortunately, there was little to impart beyond the news that upon arriving at Saeran’s mansion property, they discovered the CEO of Malcolm Industries and former dark lord of Mordor had elected to pull up stakes and leave the country. Aaron, Legolas and Bryan had followed Saeran to Heathrow but when limousine took a turn into a restricted airfield, there was no way to maintain their pursuit without calling attention to their presence. With security at airports across the world nearly martial in the wake of September 11th, it did not seem like a wise idea to force the issue.

  


The mood between the three men had been dark during their return journey, mostly because they were disappointed in being unable to continue their pursuit or discern Saeran’s intended destination. They had returned to Windsor and collected the Ford before driving both vehicles back to Westernham. In the event that they were found, two means of escape were certainly better than one. Despite being unable to witness it for themselves, both Aaron and Bryan were in agreement of their belief that Saeran had fled the country. Whether or not it was because of them or for the dark purpose of setting the world ablaze in nuclear fire, neither could say. Nevertheless it was imperative that they discover his destination and quickly. Time was against them.

  


Upon returning to their temporary sanctuary, Bryan set to work in contacting his various sources of information regarding the destination in David Saeran’s flight plans. If they knew where he was going, they could intercept him and perhaps discern what his plans were. Gandalf could sense Saeran’s diminishing presence that seemed to correlate with the knowledge of the enemy’s transitory state. Still, Aaron was concerned with how they were going to leave the country in order to find him. The logistics of all eight of them leaving England would be difficult at best. They had to reach Saeran fast in order to thwart his plans and the only possible means of accomplishing this was by air. There was no way that any of them could attempt to board a commercial airline carrier without raising seven kinds of hell.

  


Whoever said getting there was half the fun, never had to do it with two elves and a wizard.

  


"I’m surprised," Tory declared as they sat around the dining table. She had been pleasantly when Eve had produced a tasty casserole from the meager supplies in Bank’s refrigerator and larder. "Where does a New York policewoman learn how to cook so well?"

  


"I’ve wondered that myself," Aaron replied offering Eve a little smile of gratitude after swallowing a bite of his meal. "I thought liberated women didn’t cook," he teased.

  


  
  
"No," Eve stared at him smugly, "liberated women _don’t have_ to cook."

  


"I must say I do not fathom this business of liberation you often speak of Eve," Legolas remarked, wholly confounded by the subject. While Eve took great pride in her abilities which Legolas had to confess were impressive, she did seem to regard her talents as something hard won, instead of simply learnt. "Women have always had the right to do as they chose."

  


"It was different here for a long time," Eve explained. "Women weren’t expected to be any more than wives and mothers, to want a career, to vote or even own land was denied us until the last century. We had no right to choose what we could and could not do with our bodies and that are a race with rituals regarding females that are nothing less than barbarous and are often more than an excuse to subjugate us. However, we are gaining more ground now then thirty years ago so things are improving, slowly but surely."

  


"That’s why we call this the Dark Age," Aaron teased and earned two napkins being flung at him simultaneously causing Fred to giggle at the behavior of her supposedly grown up companions.

  


"Seriously," Tory turned to Eve after Aaron had been sufficiently cowed, much to the amusement of the others, "where did you learn to cook like this?"

  


"From my mom mostly," Eve volunteered. "After that, it was kind of my release valve. When you deal with murderers and criminals on a daily basis, making a soufflé can be a surprisingly relaxing hobby."

  


"It is a good idea," Aaron agreed with similar seriousness, being a psychiatrist, he knew the importance of releasing stress when working in a high pressure environment that was capable of exhausting a person both mentally and physically. "It’s the simple things that keep us in touch with ourselves."

  


"Your world is terribly cluttered," Gandalf added. "I trust it must be difficult to simply reach one’s inner peace. You’ve build yourselves an interesting world but also an exceedingly difficult one to survive in."

  


"We call it progress," Tory replied, "although I have to wonder sometimes."

  


"I’ve got it!" Bryan announced his return to their company with a triumphant exclamation. 

  


"You know where he is?" Aaron shot the question at him immediately.

  


"Yes," Bryan nodded meeting his gaze with a mixture of pride and euphoria. "One of my contacts has an insider with the air traffic control authorities. David Saeran’s private jet lodged a flight plan for Craiova."

  


"Romania?" Aaron exclaimed with shock, familiar with the territory. "What the hell is he in doing in the middle of Carpathian Mountains?"

  


"I remember vaguely reading something about Malcolm Industries having some kind of operation out there but I never found out what," Bryan answered honestly. "I’d probably have more details in my files but Caldwell has all of them now."

  


"Where is Crai-ova?" Haldir suddenly asked.

  


"You can talk!" Fred declared, mirroring the surprise of the others. 

  


"I listen," he answered the little girl with a smile. "It is time, I try to speak also," he said as he carefully pronounced the words.

  


"You learn quickly," Tory answered, noting he spoke with the same curious accent that Legolas possessed. "Craiova is in Europe."

  


"May we see a map?" Gandalf asked, his thick gray eyebrows furrowing together.

  


No one answered until Tory went into Ronald’s study to retrieve the Atlas she was certain she had seen on his bookshelf earlier that day. It was not long before she was spreading open the large book of glossy pages with its detailed information across the table for all to see. She thumbed through the thick pages until she found what he had asked for, a map of modern Europe, complete with geographical features. For a long moment, the elves and the wizard leaned in close as they studied the contours and lines that depicted modern Europe and Romania. Like the others, Aaron wanted to ask what it was they were seeking out but he held back until they were done. However, Fred who did not know such restraint, tugged at Bryan’s cuff.

  


"What are they looking for?" Fred whispered to him as she stood on her tiptoes to see what Haldir, Legolas and Gandalf were studying so closely. 

  


"I’m not sure luv," Bryan answered distractedly, picking her up instinctively so she could have a better look, despite his attention being on the three.

  


"Do you see it?" Legolas broke the silence first. 

  


"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "Time and the separation of the Undying Lands from Middle-earth has changed its shape significantly but I believe this is familiar indeed." The old man’s finger’s traced the path of the mountains on the page. 

  


"Ephel Duath has been worn away and this here," Legolas pointed to the curve of mountains, "I am certain is Ered Lithui."

  


"Okay," Aaron finally interrupted certain that the discussion was important enough to warrant it, "I think I speak for everyone when I say, what are you guys talking about?"

  


"This place you call Craiova?" Gandalf met his gaze. "I think it rests near what we once called Mordor."

  


************

  


Though the mountains had changed through erosion and mystic forces that no scientists could even conceive of let alone explain, Saeran knew from the moment he set foot within the eastern belt of Romania, that he was home at last. The landscape had altered greatly, undergoing numerous changes in climate and the advent of the odd Ice Age but despite the disfigured shape of the mountains, there was no mistaking the texture of the place. The atmosphere seeped through the soil and reached up inside him of like a great sigh of relief. This was Mordor. This was his kingdom.

  


The land had been pulled and shaped to suit the stars of Ea. The continents had been drifting further apart since the departure of the Valar but when the last elf had left Middle-earth it was as if Eru had decided that Arda had finally reached its final stage of completion. The land was stretched thin to accommodate its new configuration. Lindon had become home to the Nordic races. Most of Europe was once the lands of the Reunified Kingdom with Rohan evolving into southern France and some portions of Spain. Eriador had broken off completely and subsequently formed the islands of Great Britain. Rhun had become Asia and Far Harad was now Africa. 

  


Saeran often found it amusing to listen to the prattling of geographers and archaeologist speaking of the world in terms of continental shift and the tectonic shelf, wondering whether or not that it was worthwhile letting them see how truly wrong they were. The human race had expended the past two hundred years discarding the belief that they were sprung ready-made from paradise. Nowadays the beliefs that gods had created them were for the superstitious because such deities did not exist. Saeran wondered how it would be if they were to learn that their birthplace was not Eden but rather Hildorien and that they had been born the moment the sun had rose in the sky for the first time. 

  


  
  
Perhaps when all of this was over, he would tell them.

  


He had found Mordor a hundred years ago and discovered that Mount Doom had solidified and disappeared into the ranges of the Carpathian Mountains. A harsh, unyielding land of temperate forests and some beauty though it’s sinister past had a way of nurturing those who had darkness within them. Where Barad-dur had been, Vlad the Impaler had become a national folk hero as well as one of the most infamous men in history, known for his cruelty and barbarism. Elizabeth Bathory had murdered her six hundred maidens and caused almost as many nightmares in those who survived her reign of terror as those who had died. 

  


When Saeran had found Barad-dur, there was no trace of his fortress. Time had efficiently wiped it off the face of Arda but Saeran’s connection to his former kingdom was strong and with the resources of Malcolm Industries, was able to establish a new sanctum to carry out his plans. Despite Romania’s place behind the Iron Curtain, Saeran was capable of ensuring that he be given leave to move about freely within the country. Manipulating presidents was just as easy as manipulating monarchs, he had found and within the dark mansion he had constructed upon the unseen ruins of his former stronghold, Saeran had complete secrecy to continue his work to destroy the world of man.

  


Deep beneath the earth, he had enlisted the aid of some humans; the only ones who would be left alive once his plans had come to fruition. In the bowels of the earth, in cracks beneath Barad-dur that no one knew existed or any being had delved so deep since the dwarves, things stirred in the dark. Some feasted upon each other or had hibernated in waiting for a time when they might hear the call of the one who created them. Melkor had thousands of years to fill Arda with creatures so dark and fearsome that their true number cannot be accounted. In the War of the Wrath, many had fled into the deep places of the world, hiding because they believed emergence would signal their existence to the Valar. 

  


When he had become Lord of Barad-dur, Sauron had found many of these creatures and had given them a home in his kingdom. Shelob was but one of these creatures. With his destruction, they had retreated into the darkness again, deciding that it was better to sleep in anonymity rather than risk exposure to the capricious nature of men who could be almost as relentless as the worst of them when his blood lust was properly stirred. They were still there when David Saeran returned and he had awakened them with promises that very soon, men would be gone forever.

  


  
  
Through the miracle of modern genetics and spells so ancient that they lived only in his memory, Saeran had continued his preparations to assume kingship over the world once he had rid it of its present occupants. His creatures were growing impatient, having been fattened with talk of feeding upon their enemies so much so that they desired the talk to become reality. The few humans whom he had allowed into this underworld kingdom had been hard at work creating for him a vital component of the new order, secure in the belief that they would be positioned highly when it arrived.

  


Saeran arrived at Craiova four hours after boarding his private Lear jet at the airfield in Heathrow. The journey to Craiova was relatively simple in comparison with reaching his fortress, which was in the heart of the Carpathian Mountains, in a region that was difficult to reach either by land or air. However, he did not mind the journey through the tall conifer forests and steep hilly terrain. It was almost dark when he finally arrived at his fortress mansion, a place of high walls and jagged spires whose architecture was likened to that of the buildings built by the invading Moslem Turks in some parts of Eastern Europe. 

  


Wasting no time once he arrived at the one place on this earth he could truly call home, Saeran immediately descended the underground passage he had spent a small fortune carving through rock to reach the underground caverns beneath the mansion. There, a handful of humans worked in complete secrecy, undertaking the most vital part of his plan, a task that had been decades in the making and was near completion. Already, preliminary yields of their labor had proved favorable and as Saeran walked through the dimly lit cavern, surveying their handiwork, Doctor Irina Sadko could tell that he was pleased by their efforts.

  


Irina had been a geneticist working for the Soviet Union when she was stolen away by David Saeran and brought to work in Romania. They met during a party function at the Moscow State Academy of Applied Biotechnology where she had been the head researcher for the institute’s genetics division. Saeran had been one of the few foreigners allowed to conduct business in Russia during the reign of the communists and as a young, handsome capitalist; he had made a most charming first impression. Irina had been one of the youngest scientists in her field to be given her own research staff. Unfortunately, she was languishing under the weight of conventional thinkers who felt her theories on genetic research were more dangerous than useful. When she met Saeran, her position was already becoming precarious. 

  


Their relationship had begun tentatively. He was charming and extremely confident in the power he had over the opposite sex, Irina included. She was a sultry beauty who had worked very hard to be taken seriously and even though she had come far in her field, her looks would always ensure that she would never be regarded for her scientific merits. When Saeran offered her unlimited funding, the freedom to conduct her research without supervision or answering to any authority other than himself, she had thought it was it was merely an attempt to impress her with impossible promises. While the powers that be may not think too highly of her research, Irina was confident that they would not want it in the hands of foreigners either. 

  


When she consented to work for him, it was merely an obligatory response to appease him. She was already his lover but Irina was realistic about his grand offer being anything more than a fanciful promise. However, as she was to learn many times over the next few years, it was never wise to underestimate him. David Saeran did not make idle promises. 

  


Through some miracle, he produced the necessary paperwork to release her from government-indentured service as well as providing her with unrestricted travel wherever she pleased. It was not long before she was in Romania, living in the fortress that Saeran had built for himself in the heart of the Carpathian Mountains and conducting research into genetics no respectable scientist would even consider. During all that time, they had been lovers and she presented her accomplishments to him the way one would present tokens of love.

  


By the nature of the work she conducted for him, Irina knew that David Saeran was more than what he seemed. He was only thirty when they had met but she knew he was older; she could see it in his eyes. She was aware that the work undertaken beneath the fortress was so secret that it was unknown even to Saeran’s employer John Malcolm. She had only ever met Malcolm once but whatever he was, Malcolm and Saeran were the same. There were things she knew about him, things she noticed but did not speak out loud because she loved him. For all the darkness she saw in his eyes and there was so much that it made her shiver in fear at times, she loved him. To an extent he felt something for her too because Irina was aware that he had not taken anyone else to his bed. He seemed to cherish their moments together as something forbidden he was not allowed.

  


"You have outdone yourself," Saeran commended as his eyes swept across the cavern and soaked in the accomplishment of almost ten years of work. "When will they be ready for removal?"

  


"They are ready now," Irina said proudly, unable to keep from feeling some pride in what she had created for him. "I thought keeping them in gestation will solve our containment problem for the duration. When you need them, they can be removed and prepared for deployment in a matter of hours. I followed your instructions explicitly and your own contribution to their genetic makeup ensures that they will adapt with extreme speed."

  


"Good idea," he nodded. "They are necessary to the cause but very difficult to control in a confined space. Their arena will come soon enough. However, I would like one batch released to boost the security of this place."

  


"Is there trouble David?" Irina looked at him.

  


"Not really," he offered her a faint smile, "some old acquaintances might decide to drop in and I want to be prepared to give them a proper reception when they arrive."

  


One that none of them would ever forget, he added silently.

  


***********

  


The decision to pursue David Saeran to Romania had been a foregone conclusion. There was no debating what simply had to be done. In order to stop the dark lord from reducing the world to ash, the fellowship as Gandalf had started calling their assorted group, had to face Saeran in his domain. Unfortunately, reaching him posed another set of problems. A cross-country trip would take too much time, with too many opportunities that the authorities or Saeran’s agents to intercept them. Not to mention the customs checkpoints they would have to pass from country to country. Since, neither Haldir, Legolas or Gandalf had passports of any kind; it was a nuisance they could do without. 

  


Taking a commercial carrier would limit the risk of discovery since the number of security checkpoints would be significantly reduced, however, it would mean having to leave their weapons behind, a situation no one was entirely pleased with. Considering their enemy, it was an entirely understandable reaction. When Eve suggested a chartering a plane, Bryan had thought it was a good idea even if it posed an entirely different set of problems. However, Gandalf had latched onto the plan with enthusiasm and Bryan’s attempts to explain how difficult this would be were met with complete indifference. 

  


The MI6 agent expected the worst when they approached an air charter company near Heathrow, less than a day after David Saeran had departed England. He was certain that the company would demand all kinds of information in order to release any craft into their custody, not to mention a good deal of cash because leasing a private jet was not at all cheap. After September 11th, the potential for any aircraft to be a turned into a weapon of destruction could no longer be ignored and no one was more painfully aware of this than the aeronautics industry. Chartering private jets was a booming trade in the post September 11th attacks with confidence in commercial carriers low. Bryan was certain that they would be lucky to even get near a plane, in the unlikely event that the company was actually willing to ignore its security protocols to begin with. He was expecting suspicion or worse yet, being given away to the authorities when he started the process of applying for the charter. Fortunately, it was at this point that Gandalf took over and what that transpired then left Bryan with his jaw agape in astonishment. 

  


He could only stare when the old wizard proceeded to tell the very experienced agent that there was no need for such checks, after all, he was a respectable old man and his companion was a law abiding soul with no malice towards anyone. The MI6 agent was certain the man was going to balk at this but there was a tone to Gandalf’s voice that was almost soothing. Thus, he not only processed their application with a smile plastered across his face, he did not even bat an eyelid when Bryan paid in cash what would hardly amount to a deposit for the landing gear of a crop duster, let alone a jet. As Gandalf continued to speak, with Bryan descending into greater depths of amazement as well as respect, the company representative continued to respond with astonishing amicability.

  


When it was all said and done, they had successfully leased a rather comfortable 9-seater Westwind jet for the journey to Romania. 

  


"How did you do that?" Bryan had asked Gandalf as they walked back to the vehicles where the others were waiting for them.

  


"How did I do what?" Gandalf stared at him from beneath those bushy eyebrows with pure innocence. 

  


  
  
"You know bloody well what," Bryan declared. "By rights, he should be calling Scotland Yard to come get us for trying to steal a plane for the money I paid him. You had him eating out of your hand like you had sugar in your palm."

  


"I have been known in my time to be persuasive," Gandalf said with a smile, reaching into his tweed coat to produce the pipe he had acquired since returning to the modern world. 

  


"If you were any more persuasive, I’d have to call you Obi-Wan." 

  


Gandalf laughed shortly and replied, "I am sufficiently long lived enough to know how to bring out the best in some people."

  


"Oh really," Bryan looked at him skeptically, certain that there was more to it than just that. However, since coming into the company of elves, a reincarnated king, a hobbit and an elf maiden, the silver tongue of a wizard was _not_ the most difficult thing he was called on to accept. 

  


Still whatever spell Gandalf had used to trick the charter company agent into giving them a small jet was not something Bryan was going to rely on indefinitely. It was prudent that they got in the air as quickly as possible, before the spell or whatever Gandalf had did, wore off. If there were troubles to be encountered, Bryan would rather deal with them when the company arrived at Craiova. 

  


Right now, the most important thing was to reach David Saeran before they lost any more time.

  


**********

  


"Legolas, we’re ready to go," Aaron stated firmly.

  


"Is there no other way?" Legolas asked for the hundredth time since their departure plans had been finalized, a slight shudder of anxiety crossing his handsome features as he repeated the question.

  


"I’m afraid not," Aaron shook his head sympathetically, appreciating the magnitude of Legolas’ anxiety. Even Haldir had taken some convincing and the only reason he had managed to bear it so stoically was because the elf despised appearing weak or hesitant, especially when Legolas was not so restrained.

  


"Surely, there must be another way to reach this place?" Legolas argued again, his eyes darting back and forth from Aaron to the object of his fear. 

  


"There is," Aaron replied, "but it will take us two days to reach Craiova, where else this will get us there in less than three hours."

  


Legolas stiffened and dropped his gaze to the tarmac, suddenly finding his sneakers a good deal more engaging then their present conversation. 

  


"Legolas, it’s perfectly understandable," Aaron said in his best physician’s tone. "This is an experience that my people have to get accustomed to themselves but once its done, you’ll see that there is very little to fear."

  


"It is unnatural," Legolas said defiantly, needing to speak louder over the voice of the spinning propellers. "We were not meant to travel this way."

  


"I agree," Aaron nodded in sympathy.

  


"Do not patronize me," Legolas barked, "I am not one of your patients."

  


"Of course not," Aaron returned in the same reasonable tone. "If you were my patient, I’d prescribe you a Valium so that you’d be half stoned when you got on the damn thing but since I can’t ethically force drugs down your throat, I am going to have to appeal to your reason."

  


"I am not a coward," Legolas stated firmly. 

  


"I didn’t say you were," Aaron answered in a voice so serene that it would have done any elf proud.

  


"Is he getting in or what?" Eve’s voice shouted from the doorway of the small Westwind jet currently spewing exhaust from its spinning turbines on the tarmac of the private airfield. 

  


"Just a minute!" Aaron shouted back at her, shooting Eve an irate look at the same before facing Legolas again and deciding that brutal honesty was his only recourse, "Legolas, we have to go. We can’t stay out in the open like this. People are going to start to notice us."

  


It was true. Though it was already evening with night quickly descending upon them, there were enough people on the tarmac to make Aaron uncomfortable. Only one of them had to give him away and the place would be swarming with police and God knows what else. 

  


"I know," Legolas groaned and dragged his feet reluctantly forward. "It’s not the travel I mind so much, it is the manner in which we must do so. Moria I could endure, Caradhras even, but this menace?"

  


"It’s just a plane," Aaron replied sympathetically as he walked with Legolas towards the plane. The elf was staring at the aircraft as if he were a condemned man about to take the walk to the gallows. "And I have plenty of Dramamine," he added, hoping that would assure the elf despite Legolas not having the slightest idea what that was.

  


  
  
"I saw what happens when these things fly," Legolas said defiantly as they reached the small set of steps that leading to the door of the plane. The engines were roaring even harder as the turbines spun faster, indicating its readiness to fly. Displaced air around the craft had created a condensed gale as the two approached the steps. "Do you know when the one who commands this ‘vessel falls ill, a device made to look like a man is put in its place?"

  


Aaron rolled his eyes and swore; "I told you Airplane is just a movie!"

  


***********

  


Bryan sat within the cockpit as the plane made its way eastward, flying into the night and leaving England behind. He had acquired his pilot’s license a decade ago and was never more grateful for it then at this moment. High above the clouds, with the world beneath them, it was the first time in days that he had truly been given the chance to relax. He knew that the respite was temporary and very soon, they would be walking into a great deal of trouble but for the moment, there was peace and serenity in the twilight. The elves, even after their horror at takeoff had settled down a bit, in no small part due to the efficiency of modern seatbelts. He could hear Tory and Eve chatting in the background, apparently discussing the pros and cons of the Tom Cruise – Nicole Kidman breakup.

  
__

Women.

  


"Hello Bryan," Fred suddenly surprised him by sneaking up behind his chair in the cockpit.

  


"Hello Fred," Bryan flashed the child a little smile, "come for a little look?"

  


"Yeah," she nodded, her dark hair bouncing. 

  


"Well take a seat in the co-pilot’s chair," he glanced at the empty seat beside, "just don’t touch anything."

  


"Okay," she said obediently because she was just pleased to be around him. Although there were many people around her she trusted now, Gandalf in particular, Fred did not forget that it was Bryan who had kept her safe since mummy and daddy were taken away.

  


  
  
"Have you eaten?" He asked, completely unaware how paternal he was sounding and would have been horrified if it had been pointed out. 

  


"Yes," she nodded. "Eve gave me chicken."

  


"Good," he answered and noted that she was staring at him with those big blue eyes of hers, as if she had something on her mind. 

  


"Fred?" He asked after a moment, "is there something you want to tell me?"

  


"Yes," she said hesitantly and climbed out of her chair so that she could stand next to his own. "When all this is over, can I come stay with you?"

  


  
  
Bryan looked at her startled. "We’re a long way from that Fred," he said evasively, unable to think of a better response. 

  


"But when everything is okay again, I can come live with you. You don’t have anyone else and I wouldn’t be a lot of trouble."

  


  
  
"I know that," he was stammering, wondering how on earth he was going to explain that he had no room for a child in his life. "Don’t you have grandparents?"

  


"I’ve got a granny and granddad but I don’t want to stay with them, I want to say with you. I can keep you company," she pointed out, "you won’t have to be alone then."

  


Bryan cracked a smile at her logic but the responsibility of a child terrified him more than any threat he had faced in his life and this included knowing David Saeran was some dark lord from an ancient past. "Fred, I..."

  


"Hey Fred," Aaron called peeking through the curtain separating the cockpit from the cabin, "you mind doing me a favor and keeping Gandalf company. If he starts to tell Eve one more story about the good ol’ days of Middle-earth, I think she’ll shoot him."

  


Fred giggled and nodded, forgetting her conversation with Bryan for the moment. "Okay, Aaron," she said pleasantly and hurried past him since children were never capable of walking anywhere.

  


When she left, Aaron smiled at the visible sigh of relief escaping Bryan as he slumped deeper into the pilot’s chair. "I thought you needed rescuing," he remarked as he took Fred’s vacant seat. 

  


"I thought I was scared when one of my old girlfriends suggested we live together," Bryan replied, unable to believe how unsettled he felt after Fred’s request. "She’s just a child! I can’t look after a child. I have trouble enough looking after myself."

  


"It was only natural she was going to depend on you Bryan," Aaron said slipping comfortably into the role of analyst as well as friend, "you were there to protect her when her parents were killed. You took her from right under the noses of the Nazgul. I doubt she trusts anyone else as much as you right now."

  


"I know," Bryan admitted feeling some pride in that but it was also accompanied by this clenching fear at the pit of his stomach, "but I can’t look after her. I wouldn’t know how. Even if it was possible for me to keep her, I don’t know that I want to."

  


"Hey its a big responsibility," Aaron understanding his anxiety. Bryan, who had obviously spent a great deal of time alone, could be forgiven for his reluctance. Even if the man were accustomed to taking bullets for his line of work, the responsibility of a child was a completely different matter. "I understand your hesitation but if we survive all this, you _do_ need to stay in her life even if you don’t want to raise her. After what she’s been through, you up and leaving when it’s all said and done is going to damage her."

  


"Christ," Bryan sucked in his breath and wondered how he had found himself in such a situation. There was a part of him that truly wanted to keep Fred with him but there was another part, more sensible and realistic that told him that Bryan Miller had no business raising a child. For a long moment, he did not speak and the thought of what perils that awaited them when they reached their destination gave Bryan an excuse to change the subject. 

  


"Look, when we get to Craiova, I think we should put Tory and Fred on a train out of there. They need to be as far away from us as possible. If we don’t succeed in stopping Saeran, he’ll go after them."

  


"I know," Aaron said agreeing completely. "If I thought she’d agree, I would ask Eve to go myself but you’re right, it is safer if Fred wasn’t with her. Although if we fail, I don’t know how far they can go. There won’t be much of anything left."

  


"But they won’t be in Saeran’s hands," Bryan pointed out, refusing to be daunted by their chances of surviving. "I have a brother in Africa. He’s an archaeologist and is used to travelling in some very remote places. If they can reach him, I’m certain Frank could hide them indefinitely."

  


"Then its’ what we’ll do," Aaron nodded, understanding far better than Bryan could believe. "I just don’t want to be the one to tell either of them."

  


**************

  


They were coming.

  


Saeran could feel not only the child but also Gandalf. In his fortress, in a place that was as connected to him as the flesh on his bones, his powers were at their strongest. Mordor had been what it was because it had soaked up his essence, turning all that was good and healthy in a twisted parody of itself. Now that he had returned to the cradle of his kingdom, that power even if it existed in minute traces was returned to him, enhancing the whole to even greater strength. The power gave him the ability to sense things with even greater depth and he knew without doubt that his enemies were coming to him. 

  


Saeran sat in the dark room where he spent much time ruminating. The sunshine was something he tolerated and though the image of the carefree tycoon who enjoyed the outdoors like a teenager was a useful tool in convincing men that he was the benevolent ruler of his corporate kingdom, Saeran preferred the comforting cool of the shadows. Within the heart of his domain, built upon the ruins of Barad-dur, now Southern Transylvania, he relished the clarity that darkness gave him. He always thought better when all about him was covered in shadow and rose from his chair to walk towards the balcony. 

  


Stepping into the twilight air, Saeran was provided with a sweeping view of the Carpathian Alps, covered in some places with snow but generally obscured by fog. His separation from the land had allowed things to grow again but it could never be a place that inspired anything but awesome admiration and a sliver of fear. These mountains were magnificent but they were also foreboding. He raised his eyes to the sky and saw a dark shadow moving through the air, wings rushing about his ears as they flapped in great number. He saw the flock moving through the sky, appearing like swarms of insects instead crows.

  


He found it most amusing that their gathering was called a murder of crows. 

  


Their voices screeched unintelligibly but to Saeran, they sang a song as clear as the night they were presently swooping through like a force of nature. 

  


"Hear me," he spoke softly, aware that his speech was something they did not hear but rather felt when he raised his hands to the air and caught their attention. The crows circled the air around him, a dark cloud of furiously beating wings above his head. He could almost feel the breeze created by their exertions and a smile crossed his lips, knowing that his power to affect the darker beasts had not diminished. 

  


"Sweep across the land and seek out those who would harm me. Find them in whatever place they hide, show me their path with your keen sight. Let me see through your eyes and you will feed as you have never fed before. The scourge of man with his flames, his knives and his iron beasts, who stole the sky from you, will be no more. I will give you his carcass to pick clean. Find them for me and the sky will be yours again!" He exclaimed fInally. The flock of dark birds began descending high above the clouds, scattering through the darkness as they spread across that night, searching for his enemies.

  


When the air was still once more, Saeran returned to the shadows, aware that there was a further audience to make. The air had grown decidedly colder when he returned to the confines of his dark chamber. Even the strobe of moonlight pouring through the balcony doors could not improve the atmosphere within it. His human flesh recoiled at the cold but Saeran ignored the weakness of his body because the soul of him craved tlese things. There were some pleasures to be derived from being human but this was not one of them. 

  


The Nine awaited their master’s orders. 

  


"They are coming," Saeran said coolly as he paused in the middle of the room, in front of them. 

  


"We will find them Master," the leader of the Nine spoke, his voice nothing more than a slow hiss, like a snake uncoiling for attack. 

  


"There is no need," Saeran answered, "no doubt Gandalf will lead them here. We will provide them with our hospitality. When we discern where they are, you will watch them and make certain that they find their way here. I want them all, no one is to escape."

  


"Is that wise?" He who was once called the Witch King of Angmar asked.

  


"Your lack of social graces calls for my leniency for your impertinence," Saeran glared at him. "I do not have to account myself to you but since you must know, I think it is time we unleashed our denizens below. They have been waiting for a long time for some sport and I think it only fair that I give it to them."

  


"Masterfully done, my Lord," the Witch King hissed while behind him the other Nazgul shudder in fear at their master’s displeasure. 

  


"Now," Saeran replied continuing out of his dark chamber, "I am required elsewhere. Save a matter of utmost importance, do not disturb me. I will be with Irina."

  


The Nine did not respond to this statement, having become accustomed to the strange ‘relationship’ that Saeran seemed to be having with Doctor Irina Sadko. Saeran left them with a smile, aware that his physical desire for the doctor confused them somewhat but then if they had been without physical form for the past aeons, they might well understand why it was necessary for him to indulge himself. 

  


After all, there had to be _some_ pleasures in living inside human skin.

  


**************

  


They arrived in Craiova under the cover of darkness, which served them well because Gandalf’s spell to get them through customs was less noticeable when the traffic at the airfield was slow. A heavy mist had fallen across the land upon their approach and even before the plane had set down, Aaron could not help thinking that he understood what had inspired Bram Stoker to use the Carpathian Mountains as the backdrop for his seminal vampire epic. The foreboding mountains seemed sinister in the darkness of night and the full moon that observed their arrival in Romania did not make the mood any less grim.

  


There was little to see of Craiova in the middle of the night as Tory rented a small van to take them to some suitable accommodations. Mountains with large tracts of forest of tall conifer trees enclosed the city. It was late in the season with most of the hotels and resorts emptying of the tourists who came for the skiing. This suited the fellowship just fine. They took up lodgings a hotel on the edge of the city whose main attraction was its apparent closeness to the woods where wild bears were apparently known to roam. After the harrowing trip on the plane, Legolas and Haldir were especially pleased to be near the woods, even if it was situated in a place that had once been Mordor.

  


Bryan and Aaron had not told the others of their plans regarding Tory and Fred. He did not perceive they would disagree since it was an unspoken understanding that they were not going to face the lord of Mordor with a six-year-old child in their company. More than anyone of them, it was Fred who earned Saeran’s utmost hatred and while getting her out of England seemed sensible at the time, remaining here in the heart of the enemy’s domain was unacceptable in any shape or form. Tory was the only one who could care for her because the rest of them were needed to fight Saeran. Aaron suspected that Bryan’s reasons for Tory leaving with Fred were not entirely for the child’s welfare if he was any judge of the way Bryan seemed to be looking at Stuart’s ex-wife when he thought no one was looking.

  


It was Bryan who volunteered to tell Tory that she had to take Fred and leave Romania. After all, if he was the chief architect of her being sent away, the least he could do was say tell her himself. Aaron did not envy him the task because he knew first hand how fiery Tory could get when properly motivated and this would no doubt send the lady into an impressive fit of anger. Fortunately, Bryan had presence of mind to wait until morning to do the deed. When they awoke the next day, Bryan was notable by his absence at the breakfast table, even though Aaron suspected where he had gone. No doubt, he had gone to make arrangements for Tory and Fred’s departure. 

  


He returned a short time later, signaling to Aaron that all was in readiness with a slight nod, which Aaron returned in kind. Eve noted the exchange as did the elves and Gandalf but they said little until Aaron was ready to tell them what conspiracy was afoot. 

  


  
  
"Tory," Bryan said after sitting down long enough for a cup of hot coffee, "can I have a word?"

  


Tory who had been sipping her tea immediately arched a brow at the request, meeting his gaze with an expression of puzzlement. When he broke away eye contact, Tory began to suspect something was wrong but she did not comment, at least not yet.

  


"Certainly," she said rising to her feet, conscious of the awkward silence that had fallen over the room as she left the table and followed him outside. 

  


Bryan stepped onto the porch of the chalet they had rented on the slopes of the mountains. It provided them with a panoramic view of the Carpathians, which was actually quite lovely in the light of day. He admired the scenery briefly, wishing that he did not have to do this. However, his hesitation lasted only as long as it took him to remember that both Fred and Tory would be in mortal danger if they remained. He was lost in the snowcapped mountains until he heard her closing the door behind her. 

  


"What is it?" She asked, hugging her arms closer to her body. Despite buying some sensible winter clothes for the cold weather, the morning air had enough bite to it to make her feel the chill. 

  


Bryan drew in his breath, crushing the feelings of guilt inside of him because this had to be done. Fortunately, his conflicted emotions were assuaged by the knowledge that this was the only sensible course. "Malcolm Industries has some property in Motru," he began, "when we’re done getting some supplies, we’re going to make our way there."

  


"We’re just going to drive up to place and hope for the best?" She stared at him with more than a little trace of worry across her lovely face. 

  


"Something like that," he shrugged evasively before meeting her eyes, "but not we, just us being everyone except you and Fred."

  


Her reaction was immediate and though he thought anger would be her first emotion, he was wrong. It was hurt. Her eyes showed it instantly but with as much expertise as he had used to crush her guilt, she forced away her pain and stared at him instead, with a gaze so hard it could have been granite. 

  


"Why?" She asked softly with no trace of outrage or anger in her manner, her face a mask of composure.

  


"Fred can’t come with us," he answered with honestly. "You know that."

  


"That’s not what I ask. Why me?" She demanded. "You could ask anyone else to protect her. Why me? Why me when you know I wanted to be there. After what they did to Stuart, I have a right to be in this fight!"

  


"You may have the right but you can’t protect yourself against what we’re facing there!" Bryan snapped, hating to be so brutal but he had to because she needed to understand.

  


"I can take care of myself," Tory insisted but her lips quivered in defeat even as the words left her mouth because she knew deep down inside, he was right. She was not an elf. She had not the skill of a seasoned policewoman or a powerful wizard. She had none of the skills to defend herself if faced with the Nine or Saeran’s men. She was a liability because she could not protect herself. 

  


"I know you can," he said refusing to let her feel any more helpless than she already did because he admired her, even if she couldn’t fight. She was strong and brave and she had taken in stride some pretty extraordinary things without buckling under the pressure, he respected that. "Tory, you are the only person that can keep Fred safe. Gandalf said you had a purpose with us. Did it ever occur to you that this might be it? If we die, you are the only one who can protect Fred because you knows what’s after her."

  


"You’re just saying that so I won’t feel any worse," Tory replied turning away because if she shed tears in front of him, she would simply die from the humiliation. 

  


"I don’t want you to feel any worse," Bryan said sincerely, "I want you to live. Even if we’re all dead, I want to die knowing that you’re alive _somewhere_."

  


Tory turned back to him because those words were laced with such emotion that for an instant, she swore it was not simply about Fred. His fear was also for her but not as one of his comrades in this insanity, instead it was for more than that. Tory looked at him and saw that the reflection of understanding in his eyes that she had found him out and suddenly, it was Bryan who was retreating in this war of words. 

  


"You’ll break her heart if you make her go," Tory pointed out.

  


"I know but she means more to me than I ever believed possible and I won’t let him have her, " Bryan replied before adding in an even quieter voice, "or you."

  


Tory swallowed, hating herself for agreeing to this, even though she knew it was the right thing to do, "you’re an impossible son of a bitch you know?"

  


"You’re not the first woman to tell me that," he offered her a little smile but there was too much sorrow in it. 

  


"Good, then understand this," Tory replied crossing the space between them so that he could look into her eyes and know that she meant what she was about to say. "You may think that dying is just another part of the business, that it’s alright for you to die for queen and country. I am telling it is not. You have people who care about you, who’ll mourn you if you get yourself killed so understand that I’ll do this for you and _only_ you, if you promise me you will try to stay alive."

  


Bryan did not know how to answer. He had been asked many things in his life but never had that demand been put to him so starkly or with such fire. He nodded; a little dumbfounded because once again, he had underestimated just how strong she could be by a country mile. 

  


"Alright, I promise," he said hesitantly, unable to think of anything else to say. 

  


"Okay," Tory said drawing a deep breath, feeling as if she had climbed one of those mountains on her hands and knees just to force that oath from him. Turning towards the door, she looked over her shoulder at him and said with a sad smile on her face, "let’s go tell Fred."

  


************

  


Fred was not at all happy to hear that she and Tory were leaving and protested bitterly all the way to the train station that would take her and Tory to Timisoara in the western border of Romania. Bryan had booked them passage under an assumed name that would take them all the way to Hungary. Fortunately, now that they were in Europe, it was possible to travel across the continent without documentation. Bryan had given Tory the names of contacts he knew that could arrange for passports when they reached Germany. Once that was done, she and Fred could fly out of Europe and reach Frank who by his last letters, was shifting through the dirt somewhere in the Olduvai Gorge of East Africa.

  


"I don’t want to go Bryan," Fred pleaded once again as he and Aaron saw Fred and Tory off at the train station. "I want to stay with you."

  


The child’s eyes were brimming with tears and as much as Bryan wanted to take away the source of her pain, he knew he had to harden his heart to her tears. 

  


"It’s not safe Fred," Bryan explained gently, aware that this did little good because she was only a little girl and while she understood the danger her life was in, she did not understand how risky staying with them would be. He thought of what Aaron had said about how abandoning her would damage her later in life but better that she was hurt, then dead. "I promise you I’ll find you when this is done," he took her hand in his. "I’ll find you and maybe we’ll have that talk about you coming to live with me."

  


Her eyes brightened but only slightly, "you promise?" Her voice escaped her in a hush.

  


"Yeah," he offered her a lopsided smile, "I promise." 

  


Bryan gave Fred a farewell embrace as Aaron said his farewells to Tory. 

  


"Don’t you dare disappear for another year Aaron," Tory said firmly after she and the psychiatrist had pulled apart from their hug. "Where am I going to find this much excitement again?"

  


"Yeah, I am a tough act to follow," Aaron grinned cockily. 

  


"Yes you are," she replied, trying not to become too emotional, "you take care of yourself."

  


"You too, Tor," Aaron said seriously and kissed her gently on the forehead before he turned his attention to Fred and picked up the little girl. 

  


As Aaron took custody of Fred briefly, Tory turned her eyes to Bryan and for a moment, neither said anything as they stared at each other. They had known each other for less than a week and there was still much they did not know but for this moment, all that could wait. 

  


Tory took a step forward, taking firm grip of Bryan’s jacket before pulling him towards her. Without saying anything, she captured his mouth in a passionate kiss. The instant their lips met, she felt him stiffen in surprise but his hesitation was brief and soon he was kissing her back with just as much passion. He tasted warm and familiar, almost as they had been doing this for as long as they had lived. She felt her head swim at the power of his demanding mouth and for a few seconds at least, there was nothing in the world but them and the undeniable feelings they had for each other. Feelings they could no longer ignore, even if they both too proud to admit it. 

  


Unfortunately, a moment _was_ all that they had and it was Tory who broke away first. 

  


"I’m holding you to a promise as well," she reminded him as Tory stepped away from him. 

  


"I’ll do the best I can," he answered with a slight nod. 

  


That was enough for her and with that, Tory took Fred’s hand in hers before they turned away from the two men and started towards the train station. Aaron and Bryan lingered a few seconds more to watch them disappear into the midst of other travelers leaving the city, before they too went on their way. 

  


None of them noticed the crow perched high on the curved arm of a nearby streetlight staring at them with blood red eyes. 


	9. Chapter Seven: Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

Rings were vastly overrated things.  
  
Of all the creatures that had ever existed throughout the ages of the earth, no  
one knew this better than David Saeran. Rings were trinkets that captured the  
eye because their beauty was borne of precious metal and by their perceived  
symbolism. Bonds were established by the exchange of rings. Titles were given  
and prosperity marked by the encrustation of jewels upon a simple band of gold  
or silver to be worn upon that most tactile of limbs, the fingers. There was a  
time when so much of himself was placed into a ring, a receptacle he had forged  
foolishly to hold the best of him. The ring had been his crowning achievement,  
the final piece of an elaborate trap he had built to impose his will upon  
others. Into this band of gold, he had poured every ounce of his strength, to  
build a conduit to all the other rings of power so that he could bend its  
wearers to his will.  
  
Even now, David Saeran, who was once known as Sauron, Lord of Mordor, wondered  
how he could have been so stupid.  
  
The memories that followed the destruction of the ring, known to so many, as the  
Master Ring or the One Ring and finally to Saeran’s own amusement, Isildur’s  
Bane, were vague. There was the agony of fire and the abysmal sensation of being  
thrown into emptiness so cold that it could none other than the Void. There,  
his memories had dimmed excepting for the terrible knowledge that there could be  
no way back. His power was lesser than his former master who was able to stay  
cognizant during the eternity of incarceration on the fringes of all. It was a  
terrible thing, Melkor had said when they were able to speak again, to find  
oneself trapped on the edge of all things, to look at its center and see the  
universe with its billions of stars and to know with utter despair that it was  
beyond reach.  
  
Saeran supposed that he was fortunate that his memory was less than that of his  
master’s when he was reborn in the world. He was spared the horror of his  
imprisonment and when he was resurrected, the spell that brought him to life  
ensured he would do so at almost full strength of his former glory. Power had  
returned to him. While it was not entirely in the fullness that he had known in  
better days before the destruction of ring, much was restored to his new form.  
It was invigorating and Saeran had remembered being astonished at the  
realization of how greatly he had diminished himself by pouring all his power  
into the confining vassal of a ring.  
  
When he opened his eyes and saw the light of night sky for the first time in a  
hundred thousand years, David Saeran, once called Sauron the dark master of  
Mordor, swore that he would never again endanger his very existence because of a  
ring.  
  
Malcolm had returned Saeran to the earth a hundred years after his own  
resurrection. Together they conspired to create a new kingdom, one that would be  
invincible, one that would be embraced by man until the very end of their  
existence. This plan was all the more sweet because all that could have opposed  
this conspiracy of destruction were no more. For Saeran, it was difficult to  
serve after being a lord himself but Saeran knew the value of patience and bid  
his time well. His master was not much of a strategist. Even in the days of  
Middle-earth, it had been Sauron who orchestrated many of Melkor’s campaigns  
against the sons of Feanor.  
  
It was Saeran who first advised Malcolm that it was prudent to deal with Olorin  
who had wandered the earth for four hundred years. Despite Malcolm having erased  
from his mind all memories of his former self, Saeran thought that they ought to  
contain the Maia instead of allowing him to wander about freely. Unfortunately,  
Malcolm had been superstitious about keeping Olorin close to his person, fearful  
that the Valar may be able to find their servant even after what Malcolm had  
done to him. Thus, Olorin was left to become lost in the wilderness of time,  
until even Malcolm no longer knew where he was. Olorin’s fate concerned Saeran  
greatly because Fate and Iluvutar had blessed Olorin with a remarkable  
resilience and it was only a matter of time before things would come to a head.  
  
Which was precisely what transpired the year that Saeran found himself free of  
John Malcolm.  
  
He had been too busy putting in place the pawns for his great plan in Europe to  
pay close attention to what his master was doing in New York. He knew that  
Olorin had surfaced again and efforts were made to retrieve the Istar. It  
appeared that for once Malcolm was heeding his advice by dealing with the Maia  
once and for all. Unfortunately, by the time, Saeran became aware that there  
were elves involved; it was far too late to salvage anything from the disaster  
that ensued.  
  
The moment he realized that the Eldar had returned to the world of men, it was  
not a tremendous deduction in logic to know that the Valar would not be far  
behind. Taking the appropriate measures to safeguard himself, since Olorin had  
no idea that he was in the world, Saeran had gone to ground, ensuring that he  
was nowhere in their sights when the Valar came for his master. Across the  
world, he had heard the themes of the Great Music singing in harmony for the  
first time in aeons. It had shaken the walls of his sanctuary and for a time, he  
had been afraid. Saeran may not remember the Void but he certainly did not wish  
to return to it.  
  
However when the Great Music had ended leaving only silence in its wake, Saeran  
sensed that Malcolm and by extension Melkor no longer existed in any  
manifestation, even in the Void.  
  
He was simply gone.  
  
Following John Malcolm’s demise, Saeran sensed not only the absence of his  
master but also Olorin himself. Using his contacts in the FBI, CIA and MI6  
respectively, Saeran pieced together what had brought about Malcolm’s downfall.  
Saeran was content to let the rest of the world believe the destruction of  
Monolith was the cause of another terrorist bombing. It was not long before  
Doctor Aaron Stone’s name was mentioned in the investigation and Saeran learnt  
Olorin’s rescuer was a New York psychiatrist, a psychiatrist who bore a striking  
resemblance to a nemesis as hated as the Valar.  
  
Isildur’s heir was responsible for his master’s destruction and Saeran moved  
quickly to contain him, ensuring that every law enforcement agency in the world  
knew that he was implicated in the destruction. Information was made readily  
available to investigative teams, particularly the security tapes recovered from  
the ruins of the Malcolm Building which revealed clearly, Doctor Stone making a  
rather spectacular entry into the building’s front lobby in a T-Bird laden with  
explosives.  
  
Still, Saeran was not at all surprised when Olorin and Aaron Stone vanished from  
sight. Their disappearance convinced the former dark lord that the enemy had  
returned to Valinor. However, Saeran was unprepared to risk his carefully  
cultivated scheme and thus accelerated his plans to ensure that even if Olorin  
and Isildur’s heir were return to the shores of men, it would be too late.  
  
In the year since assuming control of Malcolm Industries, Saeran had been busy.  
Even before Malcolm’s demise, Saeran had been setting his plans in motion,  
beneath the notice of his master. Telling Malcolm would only complicate things  
and Saeran was confident that Malcolm would not be displeased with the end  
result of his labors. To Malcolm, the Black Serpent group was little more than  
an agency of chaos utilized to spread discord throughout the globe. He knew  
nothing about the rings Saeran had forged, the rings which Saeran had wisely  
placed only the smallest fraction of power because it was all that was needed to  
sway the hearts of men. The targets had been chosen carefully. Each man came  
from a strong military background and was capable of gaining assess to a nuclear  
silo in each of the superpowers arsenal and each man if properly motivated, was  
capable of initiating a launch.  
  
Oh they would die doing it, but to Saeran they had always been expendable.  
  
It was an easy matter to introduce the rings into their lives. Saeran had bought  
and paid for both Xiang Li’s mistress and Walter Green’s new fiancée, Elizabeth.  
There had been no need to use Andrei Nikolaevich’s wife because the package that  
the Russian received from her had been tampered by a well-paid military mail  
courier who saw nothing threatening about slipping a ring into the box of  
biscuits. The moment the rings were slipped upon their fingers, they began to  
hear whispers in the dark. Whispers reminded them of better days either in the  
past or a glorious future yet to be, that could come to pass if only they dared  
to seize power. The rings would tell them how.  
  
In the midst of all his schemes, something wholly unexpected had developed.  
  
When she was born six years ago, Saeran had felt in on the other side of the  
globe. Malcolm had told him he was being foolish to be disturbed by a child  
born with the soul of his old nemesis. What threat could a child be to him?  
Saeran could not tell exactly where the child carrying the spirit of Frodo  
Baggins was but he knew the exact day she was born, down to the very hour. He  
enlisted the aid of the Nine whom he had resurrected from their prison in  
shadows. It was his power that allowed them to bridge the gulf between the  
shadow and the real world. Without him, they were trapped within formless  
bodies, incapable of anything but existing in the limbo where they could walk in  
the world but possessed no power to affect it.  
  
With his return to the world, the Nine had been given shape and form, their  
powers were restored and while Malcolm had thought little of them, he did employ  
the Nazgul on occasion to deal with his enemies. However, in body and soul, they  
belonged to Saeran first. He set to them the task of finding the Ringbearer and  
to this end they were relentless. During their pursuit, they sought the child in  
every corner of the world. Meanwhile, despite her exact whereabouts remaining  
elusive to him, Saeran found that he could whisper in the child’s dreams. They  
had both been masters to the One Ring and the connection between them could not  
be severed by death.  
  
When he spoke, Saeran knew she could hear him.  
  
As Saeran had expected, Olorin returned to the world of men and his arrival  
ensured that Isildur’s heir would also be present. At the instant the Ringbearer  
was to come into his possession, an unlikely protector had stepped onto the  
stage and rescued the child from beneath the reach of his Nazgul. When Saeran  
discovered the identity of this unexpected meddler in his affairs, he was almost  
inclined to laugh at the comic irony of it. It appeared that the child and her  
protector were not strangers.  
  
When Richard Caldwell had first told him about Bryan Miller’s belief that he was  
connected to the terrorist group Black Serpent, Saeran had studied the file  
provided by Caldwell in order to know this new threat. The moment he had laid  
his eyes upon Bryan Miller, Saeran knew immediately that he was facing  
Denethor’s oldest son. Boromir of Gondor was someone Saeran could have used if  
the One Ring had ever come into the man’s possession. However, Boromir’s part  
in the War of the Ring was brief and his death served to do nothing but clear  
the way for Isildur’s heir to take the throne of Gondor.  
  
Why Boromir of Gondor chose this moment to emerge in Bryan Miller was unknown to  
Saeran, however, it appeared that he and the child had found their way into the  
company of Olorin and Isildur’s heir, along with elves, and if the agony  
suffered by his wraiths were any indication. Certainly the arrows extracted from  
their shadowy bodies could be mistaken for none other. The markings were  
different, a hundred thousand years had some effect upon the artistry of the  
Eldar but there was no doubt that they could be anything but elven.  
  
It was almost a new fellowship, he thought ruefully.  
  
Instead of wasting time in some fruitless effort to acquire them, Saeran chose  
to continue with his plans, which were, but a week away from reaching its  
conclusion. Eight days from now, the world was going to be faced with an  
entirely new way of existence. Saeran had spent the last one hundred years  
preparing for it and now on the eve of its birth, he was going home to the place  
he had spent almost as long as his existence on earth trying to find. This  
time, it would not be quite so easy to destroy him. There was no ring to sneak  
past his defenses to vanquish in any mountain of fire, there would be no great  
armies sweeping across the land. When the end came, it would be quick and  
decisive.  
  
And the age of his reign would begin.  
  
************  
  
They had driven south, past London to a rather large estate owned by one of  
Tory’s clients in Westernham. It was almost dawn when they arrived at the  
sprawling residence surrounded by manicured gardens, fountains and a duck pond  
enclosed by a set of steel gates. Tory had acquired the keys to the man’s house  
shortly after his incarceration. As his barrister, she was his only conduit to  
the outside world and his home. The government had seized the house since its  
owner was charged with tax fraud of almost twenty million pounds. However, until  
a verdict decided their fate in court, all assets relating to the crime were  
frozen.  
  
The large house was deserted when they arrived as the household staff had been  
dismissed in light of the situation. Fortunately, gas and electricity was still  
connected because the only person with the authority to change this state of  
affairs was behind bars. Tory did not have any concerns about using the place  
for a time because she knew for a fact that it would be a good while before her  
client saw the inside of a courtroom. At the moment, it was as good a place as  
any to regroup since the Nazgul and other agents of David Saeran had invaded her  
home. More than anyone, Tory needed to come to grips with the fact that she was  
now a fugitive like Aaron and his companions.  
  
After entering the house through the impressive marble foyer, the unexpected  
guests soon discovered the vastness of the place and it was generally agreed  
that it was wise not to disturb too many of the rooms and to remain close  
together in case of any sudden danger. Considering how they had just fled with  
their lives, it seemed prudent that everyone remained in close proximity to each  
other. The living room where Ronald Banks, Tory’s absent client, entertained  
his guest was almost as big as the lower floor of Tory’s house. In a short time,  
the sun would begin to creep up on the twilight and everyone was exhausted. Fred  
had dropped off to sleep sometime during the journey and the first order of  
business was to put the child to sleep on one of the comfortable divans  
scattered about the room.  
  
A small encampment was made in the room as Eve and Tory found blankets and  
pillows so that they could get some much-needed sleep. Meanwhile Legolas and  
Haldir took a tour around the house to ensure that they were completely alone  
and that no one had observed their arrival. While Tory was certain that the  
mansion was vacated, it made sense to be absolutely certain that their arrival  
here had gone unnoticed. They needed a few hours to rest and to decide how they  
were going to deal with the threat that Saeran had imposed upon the world. The  
flight they had been undertaking in one form or another could not continue and  
Gandalf had declared that time was becoming short. No doubt this perception had  
followed in the wake of their confrontation with the Nazgul.  
  
“It appears one must be swollen with riches to afford a home like this,” Legolas  
commented as they walked through the marble hallways, with its paintings of gold  
gilt frames and ornate furniture.  
  
“Acquired dishonestly I understand,” Haldir remarked as he paused to admire a  
Ming vase decorating a corner table. “The lady Tory has spoken that the master  
of this house is a criminal of some kind. I wonder why she chooses to associate  
with someone of such questionable character, particularly when she appears to be  
a woman of great conviction.”  
  
“Eve explained this to me,” Legolas replied as they reached a set of French  
doors that emptied into outside grounds. “They do not decide who is innocent or  
guilty until the matter has been heard in a council of law. Tory is his  
representative when they go before this council. Each man has the right to speak  
for himself or have someone speak for him in such instances. It is in its way,  
an attempt at a just approach though I understand that there are flaws, since  
they do not believe in taking life as a means of punishment."  
  
“Yet there is so much death,” Haldir commented as both men stepped out into the  
gardens and immediately found the fresh breath of night air rather invigorating  
after the toxic scent of the city. “One only needs to look upon Boromir’s  
reincarnation to see that he reeks of it.”  
  
“They have lost their way a little without us,” Legolas frowned unhappily as he  
looked up into the stars and was happy to see that though the constellations  
seemed to have drifted farther apart, essentially they remained the same. “I  
often question whether it was entirely wise for us to remain sequestered away in  
Valinor for all eternity.”

“Would you like to soil our people by returning here?” Haldir stared at him.  
“They have brutalized this world beyond reason in our absence.”  
  
“I would not be so harsh,” Legolas, countered, unwilling to say that everything  
that men had done in this world was terrible. Amongst the rampaging  
urbanization, there was evidence of great accomplishments as well as great  
courage. “They have changed it yes, but no more than is deserved. We left the  
world to them after all.”  
  
“I think we should continue to leave it to them,” Haldir declared unconvinced.  
“This is no longer the place for us.”  
  
“Perhaps not,” the prince said softly. “But I fear if we remain cloistered for  
too long, we will grow stagnant. We have been unchanged for almost a hundred  
thousand years. I wonder if that it entirely a good thing.”  
  
“You worry too much about things that should not concern you,” Haldir pointed  
out. “Your difficulty is being unable to appreciate what you have. You always  
look to the future, look to more. You are never satisfied with what is.”  
  
“And you are too complacent,” Legolas returned promptly, showing that he was  
able to give as well as he received. “We have known each other for aeons and I  
still do not fathom how you think.” As he concluded his statement, he concluded  
the area was devoid of anyone and prepared to return to the others.  
  
“I am perfectly aware of how you think,” Haldir returned swiftly following his  
lead. “If it were not for your wife and myself of course, you would collapse  
under the weight of your own self importance.”  
  
“Self importance?” Legolas looked at the elf in astonishment before noting that  
Haldir was smiling a little. “Surely you must jest. You are the most arrogant  
elf I know. If there was a monument built to it, your image would be set in  
stone.”  
  
“That is true,” Haldir chuckled, not at all offended. “But at least I do not  
hide it.”  
  
“You know who you remind me of?” Legolas turned to him and realized at that  
moment that it was true and how he reacted to Haldir was more or less the same  
as another friend that was as cherished as Aragorn and Boromir, who would never  
return because he was neither elf nor man.  
  
“Gimli?” Haldir ventured a guess.  
  
“Yes,” Legolas said somewhat surprised that Haldir was able to make such an  
accurate guess, “how did you know?”  
  
“I saw him once before he died you know,” Haldir revealed as their steps slowed  
a little. “It was during his final days and my lady Galadriel wished to see him  
before he passed so I accompanied her to your house.”  
  
“I remember,” Legolas said softly, trying not to feel too much grief at the loss  
of the friend who had sailed with him to the Undying Lands, who had refused to  
let him waste away in mourning for those who had died in Middle-earth. He  
remembered how Gimli had glowed seeing Galadriel before him, knowing that she  
had come to see him specifically. She was his unattainable love, whom he admired  
from the moment he had set eyes upon her in Lothlorien until the day he died.  
  
It was the last spark of fire that Legolas would ever see in his eyes.  
  
“When my lady had taken leave of him,” Haldir continued, aware of Legolas’  
emotions in this regard, “the dwarf had beckoned me close and asked of me a  
favor.”  
  
“A favor?” Legolas exclaimed in surprise, having never heard of this before. “He  
asked of you a favor?” Legolas was almost stunned into disbelief. Haldir and  
Gimli were not exactly great friends and their first meeting in Lothlorien had  
been less than amicable.  
  
“Yes,” Haldir nodded enjoying Legolas’ stunned expression somewhat; “he told me  
that he feared you would grieve him terribly and that you would miss his  
presence in your life because only he knew how to keep you on your toes.”

Legolas let out a short laugh and nodded, unable to deny that, “he did at that.  
He was the most vexing being I have ever met. Sometimes it was easier to take a  
bow to him then it was trying to understand his thinking but he was my friend  
and a more loyal companion could not be found. I miss him sometimes even more  
then I missed Aragorn.”  
  
“I know,” Haldir said with surprising sympathy. “He asked me to never allow you  
take yourself too seriously, to on occasion vex you to no end because he knew  
that I was so much smarter and more sensible than you, and that I was the only  
one who could.”  
  
Legolas stared at Haldir; “he asked you that?”  
  
“Yes,” Haldir smiled faintly. “I do not know if I have replaced him but I have  
enjoyed fulfilling his request.” The former march warden of Lothlorien smile  
broadened into a grin of mischief.  
  
Legolas was filled with a great deal of emotion at this revelation but he was  
not about to show it to Haldir. It would only lessen the impact of what the elf  
had just told him. It was just like Gimli however, to make such a request of  
Haldir and he supposed that Haldir did make life interesting, though there were  
moments when the urge to throttle him was great. But then the urge to throttle  
Gimli had not been an uncommon desire in Legolas from time to time so to that  
end, Haldir had succeeded spectacularly in fulfilling the dwarf’s request.  
  
“I would not be so confident of that,” Legolas snorted and continued walking.  
“At best you were irritating.”  
  
“Its still good enough to penetrate your thick hide,” Haldir countered smoothly.  
  
“You dream,” Legolas retorted before they returned to the others and resumed  
their debate as to who should have the remote.  
  
************  
  
“Stay still,” Aaron ordered as he examined the wound on Bryan’s shoulder.  
  
“You bloody well try and stay still when you’ve got a bullet hole through your  
body,” Bryan snapped with uncharacteristic annoyance as he was forced to submit  
himself to the ministration of Aaron Stone’s medical skills.  
  
“Hey, you were the one who was saying it was just a flesh wound,” Aaron reminded  
sarcastically, not really paying much attention to Bryan’s grumbling because he  
was too intent of removing the piece of lead that had become lodged in the man’s  
shoulder. While the gunshot wound was not as serious as it could be, Aaron was  
still determined to deal with the injury as quickly as possible. He was  
grateful his medical bag had survived the ordeal it had taken to reach here,  
especially after their rather dangerous escape from Hillingdon.  
  
“Well it looked like it at the time,” Bryan grumbled as he felt the tugging at  
his flesh that made his stomach lurch. Novocaine was the best that Aaron was  
able to provide in terms of an anaesthetic. While he felt nothing as the doctor  
went digging through his flesh with surgical tweezers and other sharp  
instruments for the bullet, the insistent tugs that generated no pain made him a  
little uneasy.  
  
“You got a lot of scar tissue on you,” Aaron remarked, noticing the numerous  
scars on Bryan’s skin as he worked on removing the bullet. “Do you get shot a  
lot?”  
  
“Comes with the territory,” Bryan shrugged, supposing that the scars on his  
body, which were commonplace to him, might be a bit disconcerting to someone  
else. “Been in a couple scrapes through the years, nothing too serious.”  
  
“I think that’s about to change,” Aaron said with a sigh. “We’re going to get  
bloody on this one, you know that don’t you?”  
  
Bryan nodded grimly, “I know but we can’t keep running and hiding. If it is as  
you say, that the world is about to be destroyed in a nuclear fireball, we have  
to do something.”  
  
“That we must,” Gandalf nodded joining the conversation as Tory and Eve put Fred  
to sleep and was taking care of the sleeping arrangements. “Unfortunately, we  
have no idea in what manner Sauron chooses to wreak havoc upon this world.”  
  
“How strong is Sauron now?” Aaron asked as he dropped the piece of lead into  
small metal bowl he had for the purpose. The sound made Bryan flinch as Aaron  
immediately staunched the ragged hole left behind in his flesh with a piece of  
surgical gauze.  
  
“I am uncertain,” Gandalf said honestly. “In his human guise, Melkor was a mere  
shadow of his strength but once his physical body was extinguished, he was very  
powerful indeed. I would not have been able to defeat him.”  
  
“Sauron is more than just a Maia,” Legolas remarked, his hearing having picked  
up some of the conversation prior to his and Haldir’s entry into the room, “he  
was a sorcerer of great power. In his human shell, he may be limited but if we  
should be foolish enough to kill him, we will risk releasing him from his body  
and I am uncertain whether or not we will be able to stop him any better than  
stopping Melkor.”  
  
“He needs confinement,” Gandalf stated. “Confinement in Valinor.”  
  
All eyes except Bryan and Tory turned to the wizard in shock. “You want to bring  
him back to Valinor?” Aaron exclaimed

“Valinor was capable of confining Melkor, I believe the same is possible for  
Sauron,” Gandalf replied.  
  
“Gandalf, that won’t be easy,” Eve declared. “Getting him across the country is  
dangerous. To us he’s Sauron but to everyone else, he’s David Saeran, a public  
figure and a very important man. Kidnap him and every law enforcement agency in  
England will hunting us, on land and sea.”  
  
“Look we’ll figure that out later,” Aaron declared since it was a moot point  
until they actually got their hands on David Saeran and this moment in time,  
that seemed like a remote possibility. “Right now, we need to stop running and  
do something. We need to reach him.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Bryan agreed, though the mechanics of it was going to take  
a good deal more planning that the simplistic statement made by Aaron, “I don’t  
fancy going through those Nazgul though.”  
  
“Unfortunately, we do not have a great deal of choice in this, he will keep them  
close and they will die to protect him,” Legolas explained grimly.  
  
“Unfortunately, it is unavoidable,” Gandalf returned before adding with the  
barest hint of a smile, “However, I am familiar with the elvish spell that makes  
them vulnerable to your weapons. If we must face the Nine, then you will not be  
completely defenseless.”  
  
“So where would he be?” Haldir asked anyone who could understand him.  
  
“That’s a good question,” Aaron turned to Bryan. “Do you know where Saeran is  
now?”  
  
“Well when I last had any news of him, it was just after he ordered Fred’s  
parents killed. I’m assuming he is still at his estate in Windsor,” Bryan  
replied readily as Aaron completed treatment of his wound and was now wrapping a  
bandage around it. “He has a lot of security but I managed to get through once  
before, I see no reason why I can’t do it again.”  
  
“Okay,” Aaron took a deep breath; having considered in silence what was to be  
done as this part of the plan was being discussed. “I say we get some sleep and  
if you’re feeling up to it Bryan, you, me and Legolas will go there tomorrow and  
check things out to make sure he’s actually there.”  
  
“The three of you alone?” Eve looked at him in concern, not at all liking that  
idea.

“We’re not going to let him know we’re there,” Aaron returned automatically,  
understanding her fear but refusing to let it change his mind, “we’re just going  
to see what we’re up against. No doubt, now that he knows there are elves and  
wizards in the equation, he might just decide to brush up on his security. We  
need to know what else he has up his sleeves beyond the Nazgul and armed thugs.  
John Malcolm had a monster in his basement, God only knows what Saeran might  
have in his.”  
  
“A monster?” Bryan stared at him.  
  
“Trust me,” Aaron replied shuddering at that enormous gapping mouth that still  
woke him up at nights some time, “if Saeran keeps the same kinds of pets as John  
Malcolm, I want to know about it before we become its dinner.”  
  
“Very astute,” Bryan said impressed by Aaron’s strategic thinking as well as his  
sense of self- preservation. If one did not know better, Bryan would think that  
Aaron had some former military experience. “I’m not too sure about the monster  
part but I have to agree with the doctor on the rest of it, just the three of us  
to start off with. The rest of you stay here and protect Fred.”  
  
“Do not engaged Sauron any of you,” Gandalf warned before he would agree to  
anything. “Merely watch and learn. It is not wise to confront him prematurely.  
The enemy is not to be underestimated.”  
  
No one disagreed because that much about the dark lord was evident.  
  
  
************  
  
Tory had not contributed much to the discussion regarding what was to be done  
with Saeran because there was very little in her opinion, she could honestly  
contribute. In this strange affair she found herself embroiled, Tory felt so  
far out of her depth that there was still a part of her that believed all this  
was the product of a terrible nightmare from which she would awaken in the  
morning. She knew that she ought walk away and leave Aaron to his fate, now  
that they had a course of action but Tory was compelled to stay. Even Aaron had  
said that if she wanted to be released from their company, she was free to go.  
His only advice had been to leave the country and stay out of sight until they  
had dealt with David Saeran. However, Tory could no more leave Aaron, than she  
could leave Stuart, if he was still alive.  
  
Instead, while the others slept, she wandered to the kitchen and was glad to  
find that the kitchen’s non-perishables were still in ample supply. Tory  
proceeded to make herself a pot of tea, enduring it without milk because she  
hoped it might help her sleep. Unfortunately, sitting at the large stainless  
steel bench in Ronald’s Banks kitchen, sleep was the farthest thing from her  
mind. Instead, Tory nursed her tea and tried to think of a reason why she was  
still in this strange group that comprised of elves, humans and wizards. The  
reason came to her immediately and compelled her to stay even though she had  
only vague suspicions of its truth.  
  
However, Tory was a solicitor and as a solicitor, she knew when someone was  
keeping the truth from her. Aaron had told her of his experiences in New York,  
skillfully circumventing the one event that convinced Tory that he had not told  
her the complete truth. She loved him for wanting to protect her but Tory simply  
had to know and she would not rest until she did.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”  
  
His voice startled her and Tory was so deep in her thoughts she had not even  
heard him approach. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Bryan walking into his  
room, his shirt unbuttoned because of the bandages, moving slower than usual  
despite his claims that the wound he sustained was minor. Men, she thought with  
sarcasm. He walked up to the table and lowered himself unto a stool facing her,  
the weariness in his face showing. She thought about Fred and what the former  
MI6 agent had been forced to deal with since the two had come into contact and  
sympathized at how overwhelming this must be to him.  
  
Legolas had explained to her, whom he believed Aaron and Eve to be in the past.  
It sounded far-fetched to her but then after what Gandalf had done; she was  
obliged to believe it. Aaron had always kept women at arm’s length. No romantic  
relationship had formed between them because she instinctively knew that she was  
not what she was looking for, even before she married Stuart. Tory had thought  
that Aaron was a romantic but when she saw he and Eve together, Tory could well  
believe that they had been waiting all their lives for each other. Even when  
things were at their worst, Tory had never seen Aaron so rapt in anyone as he  
was in Eve.  
  
Bryan too had been someone in the past, someone that they knew and someone who  
needed redemption. It could not be an easy thing to accept especially by someone  
as assured about his destiny as Bryan obviously was. Tory counted herself  
fortunate that there was no one in her past and who she was now, was all she had  
ever been. She could not imagine what it must be like to wake up one morning and  
find out that before this life, you had lived another and had died leaving  
things undone.

“I could say the same about you,” Tory pointed out as he sat down slowly, taking  
care of his wound as he did so. “I would think you would need it more, since you  
are the one who has been shot.”  
  
“Minor wound,” Bryan replied with a little smile, “hardly anything to be  
concerned about.”  
  
“Does that bravado impress anyone?” She deadpanned with sarcasm.  
  
“The girls down the pub,” he returned with a gleam of mischief in his eyes  
before glancing at the pot. “Is that plain tea?”  
  
“Unfortunately yes,” Tory replied. “I hoped Ronald had some chamomile but you  
can’t expect too much of a man who was used to hoarding money. Would you like a  
cup?”  
  
“I’d rather a pint but I think Aaron will have an almighty fit if he finds out  
I’ve been drinking,” Bryan sighed. “Aside of being king of some ancient kingdom,  
I think he was also a drill sergeant in a past life.”  
  
Tory chuckled and poured him a cup before sliding it to him. “Aaron does get  
that way. He’s a brilliant psychiatrist but I know for a fact that he was a  
better medical doctor.”  
  
“Why did he change?” Bryan asked with genuine interest.  
  
“Probably can’t decide what’s more challenging, mental wounds or physical ones,”  
Tory answered as best she could because that was a question she had often  
wondered herself. “He’s a natural healer but he can’t seem to make up his mind  
which hurts are the worst, so he flip flops from one to another.”  
  
“Its not just a woman’s prerogative to change her mind you know,” Bryan replied  
finding himself in the curious position of defending Aaron Stone’s life choices.  
“Perhaps Aaron feels the same way. God knows when this is over and if I’m still  
alive, I may have to deal with the fact that my days with MI6 are done.”  
  
“Would that upset you?” She stared at him.  
  
“I don’t know,” Bryan responded truthfully as he sipped his tea and found that  
it was quite soothing even if it was a poor replacement for Guinness. “I’ve  
never done anything else. I wouldn’t know where to begin with a new life.”  
  
“I’m sure you’ll land on your feet,” Tory remarked, “men like you often do.”  
  
“Men like me?” Bryan asked, curious as to what sort she thought he was.  
  
“You know, always in the thick of things. If you can’t find trouble, you’ll  
cause it. I’m certain you’d be the same even if you were a postal worker.  
You’re a man of action so to speak.”  
  
“I don’t know whether I like the sound of that,” Bryan replied, somewhat  
hesitant to think that he was a lighting rod for danger.  
  
“You are what you are,” Tory smiled, feeling no repentance in her opinion about  
him.  
  
“Not that you’re much different,” Bryan pointed out refusing to be the only one  
categorized in such a manner. “Aaron was right you know, you should get out  
while you can. This thing with Saeran is going to get very dirty. It might be  
an idea if you are far away from here when everything goes to hell.”  
  
“I can’t do that,” Tory shook her head, unable to even conceive the idea of  
running with balking. “Believe me, I wish I could but I simply can’t.”  
  
“I don’t want to see you hurt,” Bryan said with more emotion than he intended to  
show. His eyes met hers briefly before he lowered his gaze, embarrassed by the  
display, “if you stay with us, it will happen.”  
  
“I can’t Bryan,” Tory said softly, feeling a little flustered by that brief  
contact with even if she could not agree to what he wanted. For a moment, it  
felt like there was more to his words than just concern. There was something in  
his eyes she could not define, like that meaningful look he had given her in the  
stairway. It made her compelled to give him a reason for her refusal.  
  
“I can’t leave because I’m fairly certain that what Aaron got entangled with in  
New York is why Stuart was killed,” she said after a moment.  
  
She was a smart woman, Bryan thought. Aaron was a fool if he thought she would  
not reach this conclusion when enough time had been devoted to the subject.  
Bryan could not deny that when he had learnt of Stuart Farmer’s death shortly  
before the destruction of the Malcolm Building, he had suspected a connection as  
well. It was inevitable that she would not deduce the truth.  
  
“I’ve been a solicitor long enough to know what doesn’t fit,” she continued to  
speak when it appeared he had nothing to say, “and what is a coincidence. Stuart  
dying so close to all these events in New York is not a coincidence. If  
anything could convince Aaron to act against Malcolm Industries, it would be  
Stuart’s death. It has the same power over me Bryan. If they are responsible for  
Stuart, then I want to see them burn just as much everyone else.”  
  
Bryan could not blame her for that. If it were someone he once loved as much as  
Tory had loved Stuart, then he would be braying for vengeance as well, even if  
that love were now in the past. However, Bryan did not wish to see Tory ending  
up like Stuart Farmer because it would hurt him to know that she was dead. He  
liked this woman and though they had known each other for a short time, felt as  
if she was the only one of her gender who knew he was a bastard and didn’t seem  
to mind it.  
  
He would hate to lose her.  
  
***************  
  
Their secret occupation of the Bank’s home had still gone unnoticed when Bryan,  
Aaron and Legolas drove away from the residence in Westernham in the early  
afternoon towards Windsor. Although no one was terribly pleased that their  
company was being divided in this manner, it could not be denied that the plan  
to do conduct a little bit of reconnaissance was a good idea that should be  
followed through. With Saeran almost certainly being the cause of the  
destruction Galadriel had witnessed in her visions, the matter of confronting  
Melkor’s agent was inevitability they could not escape. Aaron did not mind  
sacrificing his life to save the earth from a dark age but he did mind if that  
sacrifice was in vain. Thus, before they could think about going after Saeran,  
they had to know what they were up against.  
  
They spent a good deal of the afternoon driving to Saeran’s sprawling Windsor  
estate, travelling through the County of Berkshire whose main occupation was  
farming. Legolas in particular enjoyed the drive, taking in the sights of the  
lovely English countryside as they drove down the M25 motorway with West Byfleet  
and Chertsey providing landmarks for their journey. The elf claimed that the  
lands they passed reminded him of the Shire, though he had never spent a great  
deal of time in the lands of the Periannath or hobbits as they were better known  
to the rest of Middle earth in the days after Sauron’s destruction.  
  
“So they were not dwarves?” Aaron asked as Legolas imparted to them what he knew  
about hobbits.  
  
“No, they were more like men actually,” the elf replied. “The only difference  
between a man and a hobbit was their size and their feet.”  
  
“Feet?” Bryan looked over his shoulder at the backseat to meet Legolas’ gaze in  
question.  
  
“Yes, they never wore shoes and had hairy feet,” he replied. “They also had the  
greatest fondness for brew and smoking leaf.”  
  
Aaron had to stifle a snort and Bryan faced front trying not to smile, much to  
Legolas’ confusion. The two humans exchanged a knowing look before Bryan  
remarked with a lopsided grin.  
  
“That explains the Welsh then.”  
  
“Or Potheads,” Aaron sniggered, adding further to the elf’s bewilderment at what  
they found so amusing.  
  
Shortly before noon, they turned off the main highway into Windsor Road.  
Ironically enough, this eventually linked to The Straight Road that brought them  
into the heart of Windsor. Old Windsor, the village it had replaced was a  
further five kilometres to the east. Windsor was something of a market town  
with some light industry. However its biggest claim to fame was as a tourist  
destination. Home not only to the Legoland Amusement Park, it was easy reach to  
any number of popular attractions, the most notable being Windsor Castle. Bryan  
had been grateful for the number of people that visited this small community  
because it meant that he was able to blend in quite easily during his  
surveillance of David Saeran’s estate, some ten kilometres away from town.  
  
Instead of setting out immediately for Saeran’s home, Bryan went instead to the  
warehouse where he had rented a garage to store his van of surveillance  
equipment, borrowed quite illegally from MI6. Considering that it was highly  
likely he would be able to return any of it, Bryan decided to put it to good  
use. Leaving the Ford in its place, the company continued their journey to David  
Saeran’s estate in the van with the intention of returning for the vehicle once  
they had completed their scouting mission regarding Saeran’s whereabouts. Bryan  
expected that Saeran would still be at his estate since men of his reputation  
and lifestyle did not leave the country without someone noticing it.  
  
In the eventuality that Saeran was not at his home, Bryan had every intention of  
driving to London, finding Richard Caldwell and shaking the truth from him. He  
had not bothered to answer any of Caldwell’s efforts to contact him on his  
cellular phone. Bryan was certain that if Caldwell were responsible for Saeran’s  
men turning up at his flat, then any communication between them would be  
monitored. While Bryan knew just how long he could stay on the line before any  
digital tracing was possible, he did not wish to risk it when there was more  
than his life at stake.  
  
Despite the odd companions he had acquired, Bryan could not deny that it was  
nice to find that he was not completely alone in this insane affair he had  
stumbled into. While a part of him was still having difficulty believing that he  
had once been Boromir of Gondor, Aaron and the others seemed to be a decent lot  
who were willing to risk their lives in order to save the world. Perhaps what he  
needed was to be convinced, as Gandalf had convinced Tory. While he was never  
comfortable with anyone toying with his mind, perhaps his disbelief could be  
lessened if the wizard would simply show him the past he supposedly played such  
a vital role in.  
  
“What is all this stuff?” Aaron asked as they found a secluded place on the edge  
of Saeran’s estate to park the vehicle and begin their surveillance.  
  
“Infra-red cameras, some listening equipment being a micro-bar digital recorder,  
visual output for a couple of wireless cameras I installed, couple of fibre  
optic receivers, the standard surveillance gear,” Bryan explained.  
  
“It is almost another language,” Legolas remarked, having understood nothing  
that Bryan had just said. However, judging by the screens he could see  
displaying the insides of Saeran’s home, he could not refute the capability of  
the strange devices within the vehicle.  
  
“Standard gear?” Aaron looked at him suspiciously. “You know I used to have  
patients with schizophrenic delusions that they were being watched all the time.  
After seeing this stuff I’m starting to wonder whether or not they were really  
unbalanced or did they know something I didn't?”  
  
“Just because you are paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you,” Bryan  
flashed him a cocky grin before adding with some measure of seriousness. “You  
may turn your nose up on all this but let me tell you, these devices as invasive  
as they are, stop more terrorists acts from coming to light than you will ever  
know. Most of the time, we don’t let on how close the public comes to getting  
blown up or what lunatic is roaming the same streets. It certainly isn’t the  
most noble professions I can tell you but it is necessary.”  
  
“Well it sure isn’t James Bond,” Aaron muttered as he conceded the point.  
  
“James Bond is a load of rubbish,” Bryan retorted with no small amount of  
derision. “I have yet to find myself in a situation where I was going to be  
killed by an elaborate trap that takes an entire twenty minutes to do the job  
whilst being left completely alone. Most hostiles tend to just shoot you.”  
  
“So the laser in the Rolex is also fake?” Aaron asked with a completely straight  
face.  
  
“Legolas, pass me my gun,” Bryan said with an equally neutral expression.  
  
“If it will keep your minds upon what we are here for, certainly,” Legolas  
replied with a smile. “Although I can tell you that Sauron is here.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Aaron stared at him, all traces of juvenile behaviour vanished  
by that one statement.  
  
“I can sense his presence,” Legolas replied looking at the small television  
screen that revealed the inside of Saeran’s mansion.  
  
“Can he sense you?” Bryan asked with concern, not wanting their position to be  
given away, at least not yet.  
  
“I do not believe so,” Legolas answered honestly. “I do not sense the Nine  
either, only Sauron.”  
  
“Let’s see where he is,” Bryan replied and began flipping switches on the  
panelling beneath the screen. Each flick of a switch corresponded with a burst  
of static with different views of the house being displayed. Bryan had only  
installed his surveillance equipment in parts of the house that was certain to  
be high traffic areas.  
  
“His taste in residence has improved since Barad-dûr,” Legolas commented as he  
saw Sauron’s plush surroundings.  
  
“There,” Bryan pointed out.  
  
David Saeran was in the front foyer of his mansion, issuing instructions to his  
household staff. A collection of suitcases was being ferried past him by  
servants and the implication that the man was quitting his present location was  
fairly apparent.  
  
“I think he’s leaving,” Aaron declared, pointing out the obvious.  
  
“We can’t lose him,” Bryan said anxiously, “I wish those bugs were still in  
place, we could at least hear where he was going.”  
  
“Forget about that,” Aaron said abruptly as the image on the screen revealed  
that Saeran was ready to depart. “Follow him.”  
  
Bryan met his gaze for a moment and nodded in agreement before hurrying to the  
front of the van and secured himself in the seat.  
  
Aaron watched as Saeran strode out of the foyer beyond the reach of the tiny  
camera. Saeran seemed oblivious to the fact that he was being observed, though  
Aaron wondered whether he would be overtly concerned even if he knew they were  
there. Once he was out of the house, there was no need to spy at him through the  
van’s security cameras since, the window provided an adequate view of Saeran  
emerging from the front door of his house. Though they were well hidden, the  
van was still close enough to see Saeran and his bodyguards, who on this  
occasion did not appear to be any of the Nine, waiting for the arrival of a  
stretched limousine that was presently pulling out of the garage at the far end  
of the mansion.  
  
The car came to a halt in front of the mansion’s main entrance, its passenger  
clearly to be David Saeran. Saeran did not linger long once the vehicle was  
before him and promptly climbed inside its dark confines. A few more seconds  
ticked by as the luggage was loaded into the rear of the car and it appeared to  
Aaron that Saeran had packed quite a lot and wondered exactly how long the man  
intended to be away. Had their arrival precipitated his need to run? Somehow  
Aaron doubted that their presence alone could cause the man to flee. After all  
since Saeran had been aware of their existence, it was they more reason to fear  
a confrontation than Malcolm Industries CEO.  
  
The reason for his departure gave Aaron grave concern because the only reason he  
could imagine why Saeran would leave the capture of Fred and the rest of them to  
his underlings was if he was required to be elsewhere. Any urgency that could  
press a dark lord to abandon his plans of vengeance against old enemies was good  
reason for worry.  
  
Bryan waited until the car had pulled out of the lengthy driveway that led to  
the main road before he started the van’s engines and gave pursuit. Tailing was  
also something he was accustomed to doing and never than at this moment, had he  
put as much care into the effort because they had to know where Saeran was  
growing. Gandalf’s portents of doom, not to mention his claims that they were  
running out of time, demanded that they kept the dark lord in their sights for  
as long as possible.  
  
The van kept a respectable distance as the pursuit continued into the night. The  
darkness made it easier to remain unnoticed and if Saeran saw them, the man  
certainly was not concerned enough to do anything about it. However, Aaron  
tended to think that whilst he might be willing to leave their fate in the hands  
of the Nine or whomever else he had hunting for Fred and her companions, Saeran  
would not allow any unnecessary information regarding his whereabouts fall into  
their hands, particularly if he were leaving for a specific reason.  
  
It became evidently clear that Saeran was heading towards London and Bryan’s  
worst suspicions were confirmed when the limousine took the road to Heathrow  
Airport.  
  
Saeran was leaving the country.  
  
  
  
.  



	10. Chapter Nine: Falling into Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

Despite the necessity of Fred and Tory’s departure, the breaking of their company had something of a dampening effect upon them all, especially Bryan. Even though he had promised Tory and Fred that he would be return to them in one piece, inwardly, he no longer felt as optimistic about his chances of surviving their confrontation with David Saeran. What troubled him even though he told no one of it, were the disturbing dreams that plagued his sleep whenever he had paused long enough to rest. 

  


From the very beginning, the hardest thing to accept despite being confronted with elves, wizards, wraithlike creatures with crimson eyes who could not be killed, was the fact that he had lived a life a hundred thousand years in the past. Even though Legolas, Haldir and Gandalf claimed to have met Boromir of Gondor personally, Bryan was unable to accept the claim with little more than a grain of salt. 

  


Unfortunately, the specter of Boromir, son of Denethor would not be denied and when Bryan closed his eyes to sleep, the fallen warrior of Gondor reminded his present incarnation of their deep connection to each other. In his dreams, Bryan would find him staring into a mirror, seeing not himself but someone older and far more worn than he ever thought he could be. There was so much sadness in the face of the stranger staring back at him; a world of sorrow was reflected in eyes Bryan knew all too well. He saw a man whose life been one of constant struggle and ultimately defeat. 

  


Boromir never had the chance to be anything more than the one who had failed, the one who was forever marked by a ring and forgotten in time except by those who remembered his death. 

  


There were other times when he dreamed he was on a boat, sailing into nothingness, casting a longing gaze at a nearby shore the craft simply would not turn to meet. Sometimes he even saw Frank, staring across the water, as if it were a deep chasm that neither could ever cross. Frank, who was staring at him with he same sadness, dressed in the clothes of a medieval warrior, a sword hanging at his hip with tears in his eyes. Bryan had awakened in a cold sweat, feeling Boromir’s presence against his skin like the damp shirt clinging to his body. He could deny it all he liked but the truth was apparent, even to someone as obstinate as he. 

  


He was Boromir and like Boromir, he had this sense that he was going to die. 

  


Until Tory had pressed her lips against his in that surprising yet passionate kiss, he had more or less accepted that death was his lot. He had lived a life with many near misses, more than the scars Aaron had noted could even begin to tell. He had fought in wars, some declared, some known only to the men who had died fighting them, he had been trapped behind enemy lines, tortured at one time by foreign agents and had come so close to dying that it was a fact of life for him. The investigation into David Saeran’s affairs had been the least dangerous assignment he had been given in years, so he thought at the time. Dying did not frighten him. If anything he had been waiting for it. Accepting he was once Boromir of Gondor simply explained why. 

  


However, Tory’s kiss had unsettled him not because she had deigned to bestow her affections upon him but because for the first time in his life, dying was not all that acceptable. He found himself thinking that perhaps, he would like to survive, to have the things that Boromir never had that Frank so often told him he needed despite his ambivalence to the subject. Bryan started to think that perhaps it would be nice to live the quiet life with a woman who loved him, with a child who needed him. Seeing so far ahead, beyond the moment was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced in his life and now it left him uneasy with the edge that kept him one step of his enemies, suddenly feeling as if it was diminished.

  


Jesus, she was going to get him killed. 

  


They had set out to find David Saeran’s bastion in Romania in the late afternoon when supplies and some exploration into the company’s presence in the area had been made. After the fall of Ceausescu’s corrupt regime, Malcolm Industries had bought land in the southern region of Translyvania and the local communities had hoped the conglomerate was prepared to create factories and revitalize the coal industry in the region. Freedom from communist rule had done little to improve the lives of modern Romanians and it was still one of the poorest nations in Europe. Unfortunately, those hopes had never eventuated and upon the ruins of an old Magyar castle, a facility of some sort had been built though what exactly it was, Bryan had never found out for certain. 

  


As they drove through the meandering roads through the lower range of the mountains, its snowcapped peaks and thickening forests of tall conifer trees seemed to blot out the sun as it flanked them on either side. The day took on a pallor of gray that was more than just the low-lying mist that covered their route into Translyvania. Shadows began to grow longer as the sun set over the horizon, with all trace of stars disappearing from the night sky. Even though the trip was meant to take a matter of hours, it felt longer as if they were travelling to the edge of the world. Surrounded by nothing but woods with only a path of black tar to remind them of civilization, it felt as if they had driven out of their world into some place that had been was as forgotten in time as Valinor. 

  


"It feels like we’ve been driving forever," Eve commented as she gazed past the steering wheel at the quickly descended twilight.

  


"This place is eternal, much like Sauron. His evil has lingered even in his absence," Legolas replied, staring out the window, sensing nothing good in what he saw beyond the road. A heavy fog was rolling in from the woods, enclosing them on either side as if it were a trap made for them. It was difficult to see anything even with elf eyes and Legolas sensed that despite the years, the memory of Mordor was strong in this region, "I can feel its taint upon the land."

  


"Well it is creepy," Aaron agreed, unable to deny that the scenery outside was beginning resemble an old horror movie with its thick fog and shadowy trees encroaching upon the road. "I suppose Bram Stoker picked the Carpathians as a setting for Dracula for good reason."

  


"Dracula?" Haldir asked, not recognizing the word.

  


"It’s just a story," Aaron explained as he looked over his shoulder to the backseat of the van. "Dracula was a vampire. He was a creature that could only emerge at night and drank his victim’s blood. He could change into a bat and could be killed by a wooden stake or sunlight."

  


"Oh, a creature like Thuringwethil," Legolas declared. 

  


"Excuse me?" Eve turned to him sharply. "Who?"

  


  
  
"She was a creature such as you have described," Gandalf answered with a smile, noting the human’s interest or rather _concern_ , "she was one of Melkor’s chief messengers. I believe she was slain in the First Age."

  


"Anyone but me suddenly develop the urge to find some garlic and crucifixes?" Eve shuddered, not liking the fact that from the very safe fictionalized vampire of Bram Stoker’s book, they had progressed to a creature that had actually lived. 

  


Aaron was about to answer when suddenly, the van swerved abruptly across the road, the wheels screeching violently against the tar as Eve turned the wheel sharply to avoid the shape she had seen running in front of the vehicle. The headlights offered her no more than a glimpse of what she had almost hit before the van crossed the bitumen and ended in the ditch at the side of the road. 

  


"Can none of you operate these vehicles without making me ill!" Legolas snapped as he unclenched his fists from around the seat leather. 

  


"What the bloody hell was that?" Bryan demanded after he had picked himself off the floor of the van. The Englishman had been dozing lightly when the sudden stop sent him sprawling. "Do you women know how to drive?"

  


"Hey!" Eve bit back angrily. "There was something in the road! I barely missed hitting it!" 

  


"What?" Aaron snapped with just as much annoyance while rubbing his neck because the sudden stop had given him a very mild case of whiplash. He glanced at the road and saw nothing but fog floating over the road.

  


"I saw something," Eve insisted before turning to her travelling companions. "Is everyone okay?"

  


"A little disheveled but none the worse for wear," Gandalf rumbled without much annoyance. 

  


"What did you see?" Haldir asked as Eve started to open the driver side door. 

  


"Something," she replied, unfastening her seat belt so that she could emerge into the night.

  


"Eve, wait up," Aaron called out, not liking the fact that she was going out into the darkness by herself. He did not care how well she could protect herself.

  


However, she was already outside and was walking briskly towards the tar road once more. Aaron climbed out of the van, refusing to let her get too far ahead. With the fog so thick, she needed only to be a few metres ahead for him to lose sight of her. Behind him, he heard the van door sliding open and knew that the others were following suit. He heard her footsteps against the hard surface of the road and felt suddenly anxious that she was little more than a vague shape.

  


"Eve," he repeated himself, "get off the road. I can hardly see you in this soup."

  


"Don’t worry," she replied and he took the opportunity to close in on her voice a she spoke, "I don’t think this is a high traffic area."

  


"Aaron!" This time it was Legolas was crying out and there was an unmistakable urgency in his voice. "There is something here."

  


"What?" Aaron straightened up immediately

  


  
  
"I sense it too," Haldir added with as much tension in his voice. "It is close."

  


  
  
"How close?" Bryan asked, reaching for the gun he was rarely without.

  


"Close enough," Gandalf declared raising his walking stick a little and producing a strong strobe of light from the crystal orb perched upon its end. 

  


The light provided them with some visibility of the surrounding area but not enough to detect what it was that Eve had seen. At the moment, Aaron could only see Eve’s vague shape against the blanket of thickening fog. He was grateful that elves had better sight because it would ensure that they were not completely blind. 

  


"I don’t like this," Bryan retorted, "we can’t see well enough to defend ourselves. We ought to get back to the van."

  


"I think Bryan is right," Gandalf agreed. 

  


"Eve," Aaron was still walking, conscious of the tar beneath his feet. "Did you hear that? We need to go."

  


"I heard," Eve answered, standing in the approximate spot where she thought she had seen the mysterious figure she had tried to avoid, wondering perhaps she had been mistaken, that it was merely the tricks played by swirling fog. In either case, Bryan was right, it was time they left. She turned towards the sounds of Aaron’s anxious calls when suddenly; she saw two points of red through the gray mist. Eve was barely able register this when the mist parted and with a loud snarl, something big and dark launched itself at her. She tried to step back but it landed hard upon her with clawing paws that caused her to topple over.

  


"EVE!" Aaron heard her scream and sprinted forward. He had no more than a few steps when something slammed hard into his body, sending him sprawling. Snarls filled his ears as the first slashes were felt across his chest. The pain served to focus his thoughts, with Aaron having presence of mind to sink his fingers into the pelt of the creature and flinging it away with all the strength he could muster. The animal was strong and recovered swiftly when it hit the ground. Aaron rolled onto his hands and knees to see it running through the mist and as it closed in again, saw himself facing a large wolf with scarlet eyes and bared fangs. 

  


It was going to pounce he realized and immediately rolled onto his back, pulling his legs in as it leaped at him. Aaron kicked hard with both legs, hearing a yelp of pain when the balls of his heels struck at the creature’s underside, digging into soft flesh as it was thrown over his head. He got to his feet and resumed his efforts to reach Eve when he heard the animal’s menacing growl once more. Aaron braced himself to deal with it when an arrow flew through the air, the point slicing through the creature’s neck with grisly finality. The beast dropped immediately to tar road and through the fog, Aaron saw Legolas’ familiar shape moving towards him.

  


"Thanks," Aaron said breathlessly, "we have to find Eve!"

  


Legolas nodded and they hurried forward, attracted by the sounds of growling around them. The fog seemed thicker, despite the illumination by Gandalf’s walking stick and by the van. Aaron wondered if Saeran had somehow conjured this. If the man was a sorcerer, it certainly was not beyond the realm of possibility. 

  


"Eve! Where are you!" Aaron called as he continued forward. 

  


Eve’s hands were locked around the wolf’s neck, trying to keep its dripping fangs from tearing out her throat. The animal was incredibly strong and determined with its paws clawing wildly at her to make every moment of resistance an agony. She could feel its claws tearing through the clothes and felt the fire of pain as skin broke. It was struggling hard to break her grip as Eve held her hands firmly beneath its windpipe, using all the strength she could muster to choke the life out of it. The smell of its fetid breath made her stomach heave in disgust. 

  


"Aaron!" Eve finally cried out in desperation when her strength started to wane and blood began to fill the inside of her jacket. " 

  


"Get off her!" Bryan shouted as he appeared through the fog, announcing his arrival by delivering a swift kick into the animal’s side. It flew off Eve with a yelp of indignation and pain, corresponding with the ribs Bryan would surely have broken when he drove the creature of the policewoman. The beast rolled onto its fours almost as soon as it landed, its eyes gleaming with rage as it took a running leap towards Bryan. Without even batting an eye, Bryan raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The quick succession of exploding gases released one bullet after another into the creature’s body and with a sharp howl of pain, it felt down dead. 

  


Meanwhile, Gandalf was standing in the midst, chanting ancient words that was driving away the fog around them. There was scent of malice in the thickening fog around them as he raised his walking stick in his hand, imagining that it was his staff, the crystal orb glowed even brighter, forcing away the swirling mists. The fog rolled away like the receding waters of a flood. It retreated far enough to give them clear field of the car and the road. Haldir looked up at the wizard from the beast he had felled with his bow. It twitched spasmodically in its death throes as the elf rose to his feet strode towards him.

  


"Aaron!" Bryan called from Eve’s side. "She’s hurt."

  


"Eve," Aaron crossed the remaining distance between his fiancée in a few long strides. "Let me look," he said dropping to his knees.

  


"Its not too bad," Eve said wincing in pain, "I think its just some lacerations. Damn thing clawed at me pretty good."

  


Aaron did not answer as he pulled back the bloodied material of her jacket and shirt and saw the deep claw marks on her body. It was not life threatening but animal claws could be poisonous and the lacerations were deep enough to cause concern. They needed treatment immediately. "I’m getting you into the van," Aaron said sweeping her into his arms and lifting her up.

  


"I don’t need to be carried," she protested without much effect.

  


"Just shut and the let him help you," Bryan retorted, similarly concerned by the wounds himself. 

  


"I didn’t thank you for your help," she replied, not about to be flippant with what was good advice and he _did_ save her life. "That thing almost tore out my throat."

  


"Wolves are common in these parts," Bryan shrugged, never one who knew how to accept thanks very well. 

  


"Not many have red eyes," Aaron pointed out. 

  


"Yes," Legolas nodded, " _he_ sent them."

  


"He sent them?" Bryan’s eyes widened. "He sent wolves?"

  


"He has many allies," Gandalf replied, "not all are men or wraiths. Some are beasts and fowl. I fear our attempt to reach him is no longer a surprise."

  


"If it ever was," Legolas added. "Sauron must have known that it was only a matter of time before we sought him out."

  


"Then we should not linger," Haldir suggested. "We need to go before he unleashes more of his beasts."

  


Aaron grumbled as he carried Eve to the van ahead of them all. His own wounds stung but they could wait until she was tended to. ""I suddenly miss John Malcolm very much," he grumbled, "at least he didn’t try and kill us with a fucking menagerie."

  


Bryan surveyed the grisly scene of dead animal carcasses and decided that this was merely a small sample of what Saeran had up his sleeve. This was just to delay them. Bryan did not like the implications of this. Saeran’s sudden departure from England and this paltry effort meant that something bigger was coming into play. He was beginning to understand what Gandalf meant by saying that time was becoming short.

  


It was as well that Tory and Fred were far away from here.

  


************

  


At the instant that Bryan Miller was filled with that particular thought, Tory Harding was shivering in darkness, lying on her side within the confines of a car boot. Fighting feelings of claustrophobia as her senses was limited to what she could hear and smell, she felt her heart pounding with fear as she felt the drone of the vehicle as it made its way to parts unknown. The interior of her self-imposed confinement was cold, mirroring the temperature outside the car and Tory was somewhat grateful that she was dressed warmly, though she was fighting to keep her teeth from chattering.

  


  
  
She wondered what on earth she was thinking. If she had any sense, she would have kept going and not looked back, no one would have begrudged her for wishing to save her life. However, she had made a promise and if she could not keep it, if she failed to protect Fred as he asked, then how could she expect Bryan to keep his oath to stay alive? She hugged her knees closer against her body, trying to get warmer and knew that she had no choice, she had to follow this course to its end even though it had not begun the way they had expected.

  


*****************

  
__

Tory was feeling more emotional than she would have liked when she and Fred boarded the train that would take them to away from Craiova. Although she had put up a brave face when she and Bryan had said goodbye, she felt somewhat overwhelmed by this feeling that she would see none of her friends again, not simply Bryan. She thought of better days when she, Stuart and Aaron had been a trio of adventurous kids trekking across Europe like it was some great adventure. She hated to think that if anything were to happen to him, Tory would be all that was left of that happy youth. 

  


However, her feelings for Bryan were more complex.

  


Bryan felt like someone who should have been in her life but was not. Perhaps it was all this business of reincarnation that had engendered such thought but when Tory had demanded of him the promise to stay alive, it was made with the instinct that he should have been in her life though it was not always meant to be. She had hoped to ask Gandalf about this when things were a little less frantic because he seemed to know a great deal about everyone. Had she been someone in Middle earth once? Was she someone in the past meant for Boromir if he had not died? The whole thing sounded improbable but since meeting him and learning about this ancient past that was recorded nowhere in human history, she could not help believing in it a little.

  


"Are you okay Tory?" Fred had asked as they were waiting in the private compartment that Bryan had booked them. 

  


Tory looked down at the little girl brushing down the golden hair of the Barbie in her hands. In the past two days, Tory had learnt it was something that she did whenever she was anxious, as if the stroking motion was soothing somehow. 

  


"What’s her name?" Tory asked in an effort to avoid asking the question. 

  


"Geraldine," Fred said softly, her eyes displaying the same sorrow as when they were forced to bid Bryan and Aaron goodbye

  


"That’s a lovely name," Tory replied with a smile, slipping her hand behind the child’s shoulder and pulling her a little closer. 

  


"It was mummy’s name," she whispered, lips quivering slightly. 

  


  
  
Sorry that she had brought up that particular memory, Tory quickly added, "he’ll be alright, Fred. If there’s one thing he knows how to do, its stay alive."

  


"Not if he thinks he’s dying to keep someone else safe," Fred pointed out with a remarkable stroke of insight. 

  


"He promised me," Tory declared defiantly, marveling at her understanding but refusing to believe that she could be right. 

  


"You like Bryan?" Fred stared at her inquiringly.

  


"A little," Tory answered with just as much sadness, once again assailed with the instinct that she was forever doomed to wait for this man who would die before they could have anything together..

  


"He bought Geraldine," she replied looking down at the doll once more. 

  


The notion of Bryan going through the Barbie aisle of a department store brought a smile to Tory’s face and she felt the sudden need to excuse herself to regain her composure. Fred was frightened enough without having to see her pining over the man like some teenager. Protecting her meant not simply keeping her safe from Saeran’s men but also to ensure that the child’s mental well being was similarly nurtured. 

  


  
  
Good lord, she was starting to sound like Aaron.

  


"I’m just going to the rest room for a moment, do you think you will be alright on your own for a few minutes?" Tory asked as she picked up her handbag.

  


"Uh huh," the child nodded, not looking up.

  


Tory left the compartment, glancing out the window and seeing more and more people boarding the train, signaling its eminent departure. It was mid afternoon and she wondered briefly where Bryan and the others were at this moment. As she made her way to the restrooms, the narrow passageway was filled with passengers finding their compartments. The young almost always carried backpacks while the older passengers were contented with more traditional pieces of luggage. Tory was grateful to find the rest room so that she could step out of their way in the narrow aisle. 

  


Tory used the bathroom and stepped before the sink to wash her face with some cold water. The feeling of cool moisture against her skin was very revitalizing. She thought of her companions, wondering what darkness they were facing in their battle with David Saeran and prayed that Gandalf’s gods kept them safe. Drying her face, she made herself look appropriate, suddenly feeling the need to return to Fred because the little girl should not be left alone for too long. Fred was a very capable child but Tory had this sense that there was only so much she could take before her resilience gave way.

  


Tory stepped out into the aisle and made her way back to the compartment when suddenly she saw something that froze the blood in her veins. A tall man in a black suit, whose face was partially obscured by his hat and whose skin was almost pasty white was stepping into the compartment occupied by Fred. Tory almost ran forward when she heard Fred’s cry of horror that was suddenly silenced. However, Tory forced herself to remain where she was. The man whom Tory was certain were one of the Nine, had not seen her but he was not alone. Thinking quickly, she slipped into an unattended compartment and waited as she heard his footsteps coming down the passageway.

  


Pressing herself into a corner, she waited with the door at her side, hoping that when the enemy looked into the compartment from the aisle, he would see an empty cabin because she was just beyond his line of vision. She heard his footsteps pause at the door and her breath stilled silently in her throat. From her hiding place, she looked out the window and saw the parking lot clearly. There were two black cars, very much like the ones in England waiting for its masters to return. They would have Fred have by now and felt her heart aching at the fear the child must be enduring in the hands of these creatures. 

  


She could not think of that right now, Tory told herself as she waited for the footsteps to resume again. A second or two had passed with Tory daring not to move or breathe as her pursuer scanned the room with his undoubtedly crimson eyes hidden beneath sunglasses. She wondered how many there were and prayed that it was not their full number. The footsteps resumed at that moment and Tory could hear it growing distant as the Nazgul continued his search at the next compartment. Once free to move, she let out a sigh of relief and considered what she ought to do. 

  


She could not let them have her, Tory concluded first and foremost. She had promised Bryan that she would keep Fred safe and that was what she would do, no matter how seemingly beyond her it was. Taking a deep breath, a vague plan formed in her head. Tory surveyed the belongings of the absent occupant of the compartment who had yet to return. The only thing of use to her was an umbrella and she was pleased to note that it was an old fashioned one with a protruding steel tip. Stealing it, Tory opened the window and climbed through quickly. She garnered a few odd looks as upon doing so but ignored them because she had larger concerns on her mind at than their scrutiny. 

  


Landing on the hard granite platform, she hurried through the crowd of bodies as she saw the Nazgul beginning emerging from the train. They had yet to see her and as she broke into a run through the train station, Tory intended to keep it that way. She simply had to reach their unattended vehicles first. Suddenly a burst of sound rang through the air, accompanied by screaming. Tory came to an abrupt halt and glanced over her shoulder to discover that the Nazgul had brutally shot a train guard. The man had attempted to intercede when he saw the dark suited men leaving with a child who was struggling fiercely in their grip. The Nazgul who were not about to be parted from their prey now that they had finally acquired her, were reacting with deadly force. 

  


Tory forced herself to leave this scene of pandemonium behind and became one of many people who was running out of the station in fear of the madmen who were armed and firing. By the time she reached the parking lot, there was sufficient confusion to ensure her advance upon the Nazgul’s vehicle was relatively unnoticed. To make certain of it, Tory crouched low as she sneaked past the tinted windows to the rear of the vehicle. Keeping low to the ground, she stuck the steel tip of the umbrella beneath the lock of the boot and began to pry it open. It took a few seconds and at least two or three strong efforts before she heard the sharp click of metal giving way.

  


Forcing away her fear, Tory slipped quietly into the compartment and pulled the boot close, her covert entry gaining a good deal of assistance from the terrified people who were running out of the station in the midst of more gunshots. The urgency of the situation robbed Tory of the time to truly consider what she was doing as she was forced to ignore the commotion and climb into the vehicle. Pressing her head down against the carpet of the boot, she ignored the smell of oil and diesel and told herself again that she was not insane, that this was the only way to help Fred. 

  


Minutes passed before she heard the sound of a door opening and scuffling noises of a struggle.

  


"Let me alone!" Tory’s heart clenched hearing Fred’s terrified wail.

  


"Secure....her...." a voice said with a prolonged his. His voice sent chills through Tory’s spine.

  


"Don’t touch me!" Fred squealed. 

  


"Be...silent...Baggins....," the enemy warned. 

  


"What of the other?" Another voice asked but it was no different that the first. 

  


"She is nothing. In days it will not matter that we let her go, she will die like all the others. The master’s influence upon the humans are strong, the rings are bending them to his will even now. In days, they will launch the missiles."

  


***********

  


It did not matter that she was freezing inside the car as it made its way to an unknown destination, Tory thought as she felt her body ache from its cramped confinement. She had promised Bryan to protect Fred and she would do that, no matter what happened because her life was in jeopardy either way. Whether it was heading safely out of Romania or freezing in the boot of this car, she was going to die if Saeran was not stopped. The vision of nuclear Armageddon that Aaron had brought with him from the Undying Lands was real. It was real because Saeran had agents with access to nuclear warheads and in under a week, they would launch.

  


God help them all.

  


************

  


The town of Motru was most notable as a coal mining town. It was not at all a place that drew tourists. There was little in the community that was not affected by the coal, it seeped into the buildings and into the raspy breathing of every miner who dug for the ore. As the van arrived in the principality of Motru the company was greeted with the worst of Romania’s terrible poverty. The nation had recovered slowly in the wake of the Ceausescu regime but in Motru, its effects was seen plainly in the abandoned factories and the old, run down buildings that made up much of its commercial sector. Everything looked old and in bad need of replacement. The elves who had had seen the world of men in one extreme were rather disturbed by the other.

  


"This place reeks of despair," Legolas commented and even in the darkness, Aaron could not deny that there was no need of elven senses to tell him that. "What has happened here?"

  


"Everything," Bryan remarked from behind the wheel, having taken the wheel in light of Eve’s injury. "This country has been bleeding for a long time. So many regimes have come and gone, all wanting prosperity, abandoning traditional agricultural pursuits for industrialization, not to mention the corruption of the men in charge. It will take years before Romania is truly on its feet and towns like this have a bit of life in them."

  


"Industry is too often mistaken for progress," Gandalf said with visible distaste. "I do not think we should remain in this township. If Saeran has agents who could intercept us from a hundred miles away then I assume he will have them closer to home. We should acquire what supplies we need discreetly and continue onwards."

  


"He’s right," Aaron agreed. "We need to take a good look at Saeran’s place to figure out a way in. I prefer we try it during the day instead of night. Christ only knows what he’s got hidden there."

  


"I suspect he knows we’re coming anyway," Eve retorted flinching a little because the fresh bandages Aaron had applied to her wounds were itching a little. "I don’t think those wolves just ran out in front of anyone’s van."

  


"Sauron always employed beasts as his eyes and ears," Legolas explained as he stared out the window at the city, which more than any others he had seen since arriving in the world of men, resembled Minas Morgul. "The crebain of Dunland, trolls, orcs, watchers and spiders."

  


"Spiders?" Eve gulped visibly. "What was that about spiders?" 

  


"You’re not afraid of a little spider are you?" Bryan looked over his shoulder with a mischievous smile, the kind sported by little boys who enjoyed terrorizing little girls. "I mean what’s to be afraid of? They’re only little things with hairy legs, crawling all over the place when you can least expect them."

  


"Oh the spiders I speak of are not small but large, some were bigger than men. My father’s kingdom in the Woodland Realm was home to a nest of great spiders and I spent many a day hunting them," Legolas continued to speak, unaware that Eve was turning a shade paler. 

  


"Will you two knock it off?" Aaron barked, unable to believe their ignorance because he could see real fear in Eve’s eyes. He had not been aware of her bout of arachnophobia but supposed that there was no reason for him to know since the subject had never come up before this. "You’re frightening the woman."

  


"I do not think that they could survive into this day and age without your people being aware of it," Haldir added helpfully. "Indeed, we had driven them out of the Woodland Realm after the War of the Ring."

  


"That’s good too know," Eve said gratefully. "I don’t relish having to deal with big spiders."

  


"You and me both," Aaron replied encouragingly, "but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have something as equally frightening to send at us. The wolves were just the first act."

  


Unfortunately, no one could disagree.

  


*************

  


Tory’s eyes flew open in the darkness when the engines finally died. 

  


She had fallen asleep somewhere during the journey and it disturbed her that she could not account for how long she had unconscious. The urge to escape her prison now that it was stationary was overwhelming but Tory sensed this would not be wise. Instead she remained where she was, listening closely to the sounds of a door opening and closing in quick succession. She heard scuffling and voices growing distant as they left the vehicle behind. Tory felt her palms become moist with fear, despite the fact that it was still very cold. 

  


She did not know how long she waited there, too terrified to move because in the darkness, she had remained anonymous. However, the reality of the situation soon dawned itself upon her. She had to know where they had taken Fred. While she had stayed confined in this darkness, she was of no help to the little girl. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the umbrella and pried open the boot once more. It opened with a minimum of sound but Tory did not make a move to emerge from the boot for some minutes, in case it had drawn anyone’s attention enough to investigate.

  


Pushing the door open, Tory peered over the edge and found that she was inside a darkened room with many other vehicles. It did not take her long to discern that she was in a garage although this one was larger than most and the stone slabs that made up the walls appeared more like the walls of an old castle rather than any kind of structure she was familiar with. Tory looked around and was grateful to find that no one else was in sight. There were two means out of the garage, one through the passageway the cars had used to enter the building and another was through a door at the far end of the room. Assuming that the Nine would have taken Fred deeper into the structure, Tory decided that too would be her path. 

  


Reaching it, she twisted the door open and slipped into the narrow passageway within. Tactically, it was dangerous to begin down this corridor because if anyone else were to come, there was no way she could hide. Unfortunately, she had little choice and followed the stone corridor to its end. Once there, Tory had to choose between two winding stairways, one that led through the floor to the depths of the building while the other swept upwards. After a moment of consideration, she took the steps upwards. The staircase was wound like a corkscrew and making her way up it impressed upon her how close the walls were. 

  


She heard no sound and supposed the silence could be explained by the darkness. It had to be night because the place was almost pitch black and she was grateful when she had finally reached the top and saw this confirmed through window of the room she had emerged. To her relief, it appeared that the place was not the stygian and gothic castle belonging to some dark lord but rather the luxurious home of a corporate giant. As she stepped into the foyer, she saw that it was a place of marble floors and expensive draperies. A great staircase swept into the upper levels of the mansion, covered in red carpet and made Tory think of Buckingham for some odd reason.

  


Chandeliers of differing shapes and sizes hung across the ceiling and appeared to be adjusted to exude a dim illumination for the nocturnal hours. The mansion was decorated in the fashion of the great manor homes of Europe and though she was not deluded into thinking that this place was anything but dangerous, she felt herself on firmer footing in an environment that seemed to adhere to a modicum of sanity. Scanning the foyer’s length, Tory saw that there were other rooms with the nearest being one with tall doors and ornate engravings. Light emanated through the crack of the door indicating that the presence of someone inside the room. 

  


At that instant, she heard the soft tune of a whistle accompanied by the sound footsteps growing louder from above. It did not take Tory long to discern that the those footsteps belonged to someone who was descending the sweeping staircase and she immediately withdrew into passageway leading back to the garage, allowing just enough leeway to observe the new arrival. When he moved into sight, Tory recognized him immediately. He was attired casually in the manner one would expect from the tycoon of a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate with a countenance of privileged relaxation. Stepping onto the marble floor, he strode casually towards the room with the tall doors. When he passed beneath the ambient light of the chandelier, Tory was given her first real view of David Saeran.

  


He was more handsome in person but there was a coldness to his features that hinted at his true nature despite his pleasing outward appearance. He seemed oblivious to her presence and Tory was never more grateful for her own ability to go unnoticed because something about him terrified her. Perhaps it was all the stories that Gandalf and the elves had told her about this man or more accurately, this dark lord that frightened her so but her instincts were compelling her to flee while she still could. Unfortunately, she could do nothing while Fred was imprisoned here. 

  


Saeran reached the doors and pulled it open, a flood of light filling the dimly lit foyer. Tory craned her neck as far as she could without giving herself away to see what was inside. It did not take her long to be confronted with the sight of the Nine waiting for their master's audience, proudly presenting them with a prize he had awaited a hundred thousand years to receive.

  


Fred.

  


************

  


It was not quite dawn when the eyes of Legolas Greenleaf flew open with alertness.

  


He sat up immediately in the back of the van where he had taken a few hours sleep, after allowing Aaron to take over the watch when they had paused in their journey to rest. Indeed as he sat up, he could see the doctor seated before the fire, warming his hands as the rest of the company slept. The atmosphere was one of peaceful serenity and with the darkness of the wilderness surrounding them, there was little danger that easily discernible to the human eye. 

  


Fortunately, Legolas was not human and as he saw Haldir and Gandalf began to stir, he knew that he was not the only one who was gripped with this sense of impending peril. The danger was coming at them and it was approaching fast. 

  


"Everyone get up!" Legolas shouted tautly, his voice sounding odd when raised because the others had seldom heard him use in that manner.

  


Aaron jumped startled from where he was seating and turned to the elf that was wearing a grave expression on his face. "What is it?" 

  


"There is danger," Legolas said as the others around him stirred. "It is coming upon us quickly! We must leave here now!"

  


"He is right," Haldir added, his voice still groggy from being so abruptly roused from his restless sleep. "My dreams were clouded with a growing threat. It is drawing nearer with each second."

  


"The enemy has found us," Gandalf replied. "We must leave immediately."

  


"Get in the car!" Bryan ordered Aaron who was still debating the situation with the elves and Gandalf. Thanks to his years in the service, he was more than accustomed to sleeping with one eye open and when Legolas had raised the alarm of danger, Bryan had no difficulty in rising to the occasion. He was already armed and sliding into the driver's seat of the van. If danger was coming, then he preferred to be on the move when it arrived. 

  


"We're leaving," he stated as he brought the engines to life.

  


"Leaving?" Aaron declared as he climbed into the vehicle. "Exactly where are we going? If they're know we're here then they must know where we're going."

  


"It matters little if they know we are coming or not," Gandalf interjected, "the fact remains, we must maintain our course towards Sauron," Gandalf replied smoothly as the doctor pulled the door close when he was inside the van. 

  


"How?" Eve grumbled as her eyes darted about anxiously, trying to discern from which direction the attack would come. So far she could see nothing ominous but too many trees and the thick fog that was a way of life in the Carpathian Mountains.

  


"We'll think of something," Aaron retorted as he buckled himself into his seat. "Right now, let's just get moving."

  


The drone of engines became a healthy roar when Bryan put his foot down on the accelerator and caused the van to surge forward in a burst of speed. The sudden acceleration of the vehicle proved to be fortuitous because no sooner than they were speeding away from their campsite, beams of light pierced through the fog, seeking them through the swirling clouds. The rumble of engines belonging to several cars soon followed the appearance of the strobes as the van made its way towards the road with only a few seconds elapsing before they became visible to the eye.

  


"There are three of them behind us!" Aaron called out as he saw their headlights closing the distance between them. The glare of lights bearing down upon them flooded the inside of the van and Aaron was forced to turn away as he saw the three sets of headlights giving chase to their flight

  


"Bryan, step on it!" Aaron barked as he saw the gap between the vehicles narrowing.

  


"What the bloody hell do you think I am doing?" Bryan snapped as he pushed harder against the accelerator. "This is a van not a Ferrari!" 

  


The elves were holding onto their seats tightly and even the poor illumination could not hide their anxiety at the speeds they were traveling. Aaron was certain that after this he was never going to be able to coax Legolas into a car again. Everyone was bracing themselves for a bumpy ride as the van sped up just a little bit more. Unfortunately, the added velocity did not improve their chances of escape. The vehicles following them were catching up quickly with one of the stretched, dark cars pulled along side of them. 

  


"Keep down!" Aaron shouted in warning just as he saw window being wound down on the other car and the barrel of a gun appearing through the gap. The bullets tore through the windows as everyone dropped to the floor. Overhead, glass shattered spectacularly, raining shards all over their prone forms.

  


Bryan veered the vehicle sharply away from the black Mercedes and succeeded in slamming hard against the car flanking the other side of the van. The sound of metal crunching like paper filled their ears as Bryan tried to escape the deadly gunfire. He looked through the side mirror and saw the third car speeding on the outside of the road, gaining rapid distance as it began to pass all of them. 

  
__

They're trying to cut us off, Bryan thought to himself and shouted quickly. "Everyone, make sure your seatbelts are on!"

  


"Oh hell," Eve swore understandably "I don't like the sound of this!"

  


Aaron could not blame her and made sure that Legolas and Haldir were fastened into their seats securely. The elves had a severe distaste for the belts and preferred to endure their ordeal in the vehicle without them. Unfortunately, Aaron suspected that Bryan had something in mind that was going to make seatbelts the difference between life and death. 

  


"We're secure!" He called out and no sooner than he had spoken, Bryan made another sharp pull on the steering wheel, slamming the vehicle into the side of the pursuing car on the left, tyres screeching across the tar along with the sound of metal smashing against metal. The full weight of the van ploughing into the Mercedes succeeded in overturning the car completely. Aaron saw the Mercedes flipped over several times across the road before coming to rest at an embankment, decidedly worse for wear. 

  


The enemy began firing again and more bullets tore into the side of the vehicle, shattering windows that were not already destroyed by the earlier barrage. Eve immediately reached for her gun and proceeded to return fire, forcing the dark car away from the van to escape the hail of bullets coming at them. However, the chase was by no means ended. Another set of headlights behind them revealed another car had joined the chase and was closing the gap rapidly.

  


"We have to get off the road!" Bryan declared.

  


"Do what you have to!" Aaron shouted and went to the back of the van and produced his weapon. "Everyone else stay down, some of those bullets are getting through!"

  


It was true, even as he smashed the back window in order to lay down some fire of his own, he could see the bullet riddle door of the van. It was a minor miracle that no one had been mortally wounded. Fortunately, Eve was covering the side of the vehicle, giving Aaron one less thing to worry about as he pulled the trigger of his gun and struck the windscreen of the car behind them. The vehicle swerved sharply and Aaron thought he might have hit the driver but before it could be forced off the road, the Mercedes resumed its pursuit with even more speed. 

  


The shuddering of the wheels against the uncertain terrain signaled the van's departure from the tar road. The vehicle heaved in protest as it attempted to navigate the uncertain terrain and Bryan struggled to see through the fog as he drove across the open countryside. He could see the others cars closing in on them and lurched forward in his seat when he felt the impact of the Mercedes against the back bumper of the van. He heard Aaron swearing as the doctor was thrown backwards by the collision.

  


It was difficult to see through the fog but vague outlines began to appear as they neared closer and closer to the mountains. The enemy was remaining close to them, ensuring that they were unable to make a break for the road. Both cars were flanking the van, plying them with bullets and sharp jolts that gave Bryan no choice but to keep going ahead. Unfortunately, they were very quickly running out of places to continue their escape. The mountains were looming overhead and the fog was withering away as they neared it. 

  


"They're herding us!" Eve shouted as she recognized the tactic.

  


"I know that!" Bryan snapped angrily when his latest effort to escape this course they were being forced to travel, ended with the Mercedes slamming so hard against the driver’s door, he could feel the metal buckle against his body.

  


"They're going to drive us into the mountain!" Aaron declared.

  


"I do not think they plan to kill us just yet," Gandalf said knowingly.

  


"They're doing a good job trying to convince us," Eve replied as she reloaded her gun and continued shooting.

  


Bryan did not add to the discussion because he was too busy seeking out a hiding place. He had gained some measure of distance, though not very much and hoped to use that gap to lose their pursuers. It was difficult to see through the fog but fortunately, it had thinned out enough to give him some idea of what lay ahead. Suddenly his eyes caught sight of something that captured his attention immediately; a small opening at the base of the mountain range that could have been a mine at one point. The region was famous for its coal and what he saw before him appeared to be a mine that appeared abandoned for sometime. It was not much of a sanctuary, but if they remained locked in this high-speed struggle someone was going to be killed.

  


Bryan forced his foot against the accelerator until the metal plate was touching the floor. The engines had revved with so much power that its loud roar had drowned out all other sound. Within seconds, the confines of the cavern was rushing up to meet them. The cars behind the van had fallen back and Bryan let out a sigh of relief at the knowledge that he and his companions had eluded capture temporarily. As the darkness of the abandoned coalmine swallowed them whole, Aaron crawled to the front of the van. 

  


"Where are we?" Aaron asked as he peered out through the windscreen at the darkness surrounding them.

  


"Coal mine I think," Bryan remarked as he brought the van to a gradual halt. 

  


Bryan’s answer seemed to fit because Aaron could see disused mining equipment in the path of the headlights. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Saeran’s men had not followed them into the cave and felt a sliver of hope at the possibility that their pursuers might have lost them. 

  


"It’s a good thing you found this place," Aaron commented, "I don't think we could have taken much more."

  


Bryan was about to answer when suddenly, his eyes shifted to the rear vision mirror and as his brow furrowed in concern, both men heard Eve calling out urgently.

  


"Aaron, Bryan, get over here!" Eve shouted.

  


She was climbing out of the van, staring at the opening of the cave. Through the fog, she could see the headlights of the pursuing cars but they were not moving. They had come to a halt at the mouth of the cave. 

  


"What are they doing?" Haldir asked baffled by this behavior. If the enemy knew they were hiding here, why were they waiting to make their move?

  


"I believe they have something else planned," Gandalf said ominously as Legolas took a step closer forward. With the exception of Haldir, he was the only one of them with the strength of vision to get a clear view of what the enemy was doing.

  


"They have emerged from their vehicles," Legolas remarked upon seeing one of Saeran's men stepping forward ahead of the others when they disembarked from their vehicles. He was holding an odd device in his hand. "One of them is carrying something."

  


Bryan was amazed at the elf's ability to see through the distance not to mention darkness but he could not comment upon it because Legolas' statement had surfaced a very unpleasant possibility. "What does it look like?" He asked fearing the worst.

  


"It is almost as long as a sword," Legolas answered, "he is propping it upon his shoulder. It is made of steel and is round in its shape, like a small log. I do not think it is a gun."

  


"He is directing it at us I believe," Haldir observed as well.. 

  


"Oh bugger!" Bryan swore. "Everyone get to the back of the cave now!" 

  


"What?" Aaron stared at him with wide-eyed insistence.

  


"DO IT!" Bryan shouted and grabbed both Aaron and Eve by the arm and started running. 

  


The fear in his voice prompted the elves and the wizard to do so without question and no sooner than they had started running, a loud bang erupted, like the popping gasses of a thick marsh bog. The shockwave hit a split second later as the blast of stone and dust swept them off the ground like leaves blown away by a strong wind. All were thrown violently to into the dirt. The explosion was followed by another tremendous roar as the ground shook and cavern became filled with choking dust. For a few seconds, they could only lie there, covered in debris, gasping for breath as the darkness enveloped them with even greater intensity.

  


It was Haldir who first rose to his feet and thus it was left to him to make the discovery of their predicament. 

  


"The entrance is sealed," he said staring at his companions gravely, "we are trapped."

  



	11. Chapter Ten: The Instrument of Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

For David Saeran, there were few moments in life as sweet as this.

  


  


It was no exaggeration to say that he had been awaiting this audience for almost an eternity because a hundred thousand years could be perceived as such by someone who had been anticipating this day for longer than anyone could imagine. Since his resurrection in the world of men, Saeran had seethed with vengeance at the ruination of his carefully cultivated plan in Middle-earth when he ruled as Lord of Mordor. When he thought of his efforts in persuading Celerimbor to forge the rings of power, then to consolidate the disaffected voices in Middle earth into a fighting force equal to none, only to see all it destroyed because of one hobbit, he became so enraged it was hard to think. 

  


  


All because that hobbit had proved that he was stronger than even Sauron had given him credit. A hobbit whose soul was finally within his reach.

  


  


Saeran stared at the whimpering child huddled in the chair the Ringwraiths had placed her, clutching her dolls with almost white knuckles and saw no physical traces of the hobbit once known as Frodo Baggins. Indeed this child probably remembered nothing of the life led in the Shire where she had once been keeper of the One Ring, a treasure Frodo Baggins would eventually destroy in the fires of Mount Doom though it did not belong to him. The destruction of the One Ring had ended Sauron’s bid for power over Middle earth and condemned the remnants of his defeated spirit to the Void. That was a slight that could not be forgiven, even a hundred thousand years after the event.

  


  


"It is my pleasure to finally meet you Fred," Saeran took a step towards her and saw her cringing further into the chair, her terror intensifying now that the dark nemesis of her dreams had shown himself at last. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her fear of him was so palpable that it was rather amusing. "May I call you Fred?" 

  


  


She did not answer. 

  


  


"I have wanted to meet you for the longest time Fred," Saeran extended his hand towards her and though the child shrank away, she could not escape him either. His finger brushed a strand of dark hair from her face and as he did, he took especial pride in seeing her tremble like a leaf. This would be so much more satisfying if she understood why she had earned his utter disdain but Saeran was patient, they would be spending a great deal of time together in the future. Fate had made Frodo Baggin’s reincarnation female and Saeran intended to exploit her gender to the fullest extent. He had no intention of killing her but every day of her life was going to be an expression of pain, of that there would be mistake.

  


  
  
"My servants have been searching for you since the day you were born," Saeran held her chin in his hand, pressing hard against the soft skin to ensure she would think twice about pulling away. Her lips were quivering because she was shaking so hard and Saeran felt tears dampen his fingertips. For this initial meeting, words were more than enough to impress upon the child the gravity of her situation. 

  


  


"You know that don’t you?" He looked at her with a smile. "You heard me at night, you heard me whisper in the dark. I told you we would meet one day."

  


  


Her eyes furrowed in memory of the vile things she had heard in her sleep, the whispers in the dark of all the awful plans he had for her. She understood some of it and some was beyond her youth to comprehend but Fred suspected that she would find out if she remained his prisoner long enough. 

  


  


"Bryan will come for me," she whispered softly, surprising him with the sudden verbal offering. 

  


  


Perhaps the Ringbearer’s spirit was not so deeply submerged in her psyche after all, Saeran thought.

  


  


"I am certain he will," Saeran lowered himself so that she could look into his eyes and answered as if he were telling the child a bedtime story instead of making her understand that she had no hope of escaping her fate. "When he does, I’ll have him killed like I had your parents killed. You are mine Fred. You are mine until the day you die. I will kill anyone who tries to help you and then I will make you pay for involving them. I have no sympathy for you child. You have the misfortune of being someone who caused me a great deal of strife and I intend to exact the price of that injury with your despair."

  


  


"I didn’t do anything to you," she cried, unable to understand what she could have possibly done in her short life to earn this deep hatred. She thought she remembered things sometimes, things about a ring but beyond that there was nothing except this man’s voice in her dreams, his voice and his threats.

  


  


"I’m afraid you did," Saeran straightened up, staring at her coldly. "What that is exactly, you will learn over the next few years. As I said, you are mine and here you will stay until the day you pass, which I intend to be a long time from now."

  


  


Fred started to cry and Saeran could only smile because the sound of her weeping was like music to his ears. He relished it with deep satisfaction. 

  


  


"Put her somewhere safe," Saeran replied turning away from the child, "when my current plans reach completion, I will turn my attention to her with the proper devotion. For now, I have no need of her."

  


  


With that, the lord of Mordor swept out of the room, taking with him the sweet victory of a child’s tears.

  


  


***********

  


  


Surveying the mouth of the cave, there was very little doubt that the entrance was completely sealed as they stared at the wall of rock before them. Saeran's men had done a thorough job of trapping them inside the abandoned mine because the air was already starting to become stale. The dust cloud had yet to settle and could be seen drifting through the air by the illumination of the headlights bouncing off the random particles. If the dust was not already bad enough, the blast had loosened particles of coal into the air and a film of dark soot was staring to settle into everything. 

  


  


After the initial realization of their imprisonment in this dark cavern, the first order of business had been to investigate the possibility of escape. Unfortunately, it was now apparent that they were not leaving the mine the way they had entered. The mouth of the cave had collapsed upon itself and while there were some tools left behind, all proved grossly inadequate for digging themselves out. The headlights of the van for now provided some light but it would not be long before the batteries were drained and they would be forced to rely on what makeshift torches they could make as well as Gandalf's staff.

  


  


"This is my fault," Bryan said grimly, pushing against a bolder that was embedded firmly in its place within the blockage of the cave entrance and muttered under his breath when it would not even budge an inch. 

  


  


"No its not," Aaron returned automatically, not believing it for a second. "If you hadn't driven in here, we would probably be in their hands by now and most likely be dead. This was a good call at the time."

  


  


"I suppose," Bryan frowned, hating the fact that their presence here was by design. "I should have seen it though. They were forcing us here."

  


  


"Yeah I thought it was kind of coincidental that they seemed to have a bazooka on hand," Aaron nodded, agreeing with his assertion. "They probably thought this was a good way to contain us."

  


  


"In a mine shaft?" Bryan stared at him, "it feels like more than just containment."

  


  


"Come on," Aaron gestured at him to come away from the wall since it was clear they were not going to be able to clear away the debris to leave the way they came. "We got to find another way out of here."

  


  


"I'm with you on that," the Englishman agreed and followed Aaron who was walking towards the van. 

  


  


When he arrived, he saw Haldir and Legolas had discarded their modern clothing in favor of their elven attire. Since their present situation saw no need to maintain their disguise as humans and would most likely lead them into battle, it was best to be garbed in clothes most suited for the purpose. The elves had been investigating the rest of the mineshaft while Eve rested after her exertion earlier. Aaron could see that she was in pain though she would never admit it openly. He wondered how she thought he would miss it. After all, he of all people was aware of just how recent her injuries were. He himself had bore the brunt of the wolf attack but it was nowhere as serious as the lacerations Eve had endured.

  


  


"The mine is not closed," Gandalf announced when the company was together again. "It leads downwards but I sense that path will not be easy. As you have already guessed, we were trapped here for a reason."

  


  


"Don't tell me this mineshaft leads to Saeran's little chamber of horrors?" Aaron asked expecting the worse.

  


  


"There is great evil emanating from it," Legolas replied as the elf armed himself with the weapons that had been spending a good deal of time hiding since their arrival in the modern world. "Unfortunately, our alternatives are limited. We cannot remain here and that may be the only path out."

  


  


"Well we best get a move on then," Bryan replied without hesitation. "We'll take what food and water we can carry and _all_ the weapons. Everything else is going to have to stay behind. When and if this is over and we're still in one piece we can come back for the van but right now, we should only take what we need."

  


  


"We're going to need something to see with down there," Aaron pointed out, unhappy at leaving the van behind even though there was no alternative but to do so. Having remembered the watcher that had almost feasted on him beneath the Monolith, Aaron was not exactly enthusiastic about leaving the bulk of their supplies behind. 

  


  


"We don't know how much air is down there," Bryan returned, his military training coming to the surface very much now, "we start lighting torches and what little there is will be used up quickly and we'll suffocate. The battery torch will have to do."

  


  


"Do not worry," Gandalf said assuredly, "I shall be to provide all the light we will need."

  


  


With a plan of action laid out, the group began sifting through the supplies in order to take the essentials. Aaron was surprised by just how much weight Bryan was able to carry as he took it upon himself to take most of the weapons. In her condition, Eve was unable to carry very much and between Aaron and Bryan, they had managed to take every gun and all the ammunition in the van. Once they had collected their belongings for the journey, they paused long enough to take a meal before setting out for the mineshaft, with Gandalf leading the way.

  


  


The mineshaft appeared to have been deserted for quite sometime if the cobwebs and dust were any indication of its neglect. Fortunately, as they descended the narrow passageway into the earth, the air did not thin which was a good sign that a fresh supply was coming from _somewhere_. Gandalf seemed to be quite adept at navigating through the uneven terrain and despite the claustrophobic feel of the black, ash covered walls around them, Aaron started to think that perhaps they would see daylight again. 

  


  


They walked for what seemed like hours, in a passageway that seemed to be taking them deeper and deeper into the earth. Occasionally, they would happen upon other tunnels veering away from their chosen route but the air emanating from these shafts were dank, indicating a decided lack of oxygen or ventilation for that matter. Since Gandalf's navigation had so far kept them supplied with fresh oxygen, they did not question his decision to ignore the other tunnels. 

  


  


However, Aaron could tell that the elves were anxious. While he did not possess their honed senses, he was an expert interpreting behavior and elves, no matter how much they loathed to admit it, were not all that different from humans in that respect. They could sense danger and it had been a threat growing in their mind for some time now. The only reason neither Legolas and Haldir had voiced this was because the news would do little to alter their course. This was the only way out and whatever danger lingered on the edge of their consciousness would still have to be dealt with if they wanted to escape this darkness.

  


  


"This reminds of Moria," Gandalf remarked with a little hint of nostalgia in his voice. 

  


  


"Moria?" Bryan asked.

  


  


"It was the realm of the dwarfs," Legolas replied as if that explained everything.

  


  


"They liked living in coal mines?" Bryan looked at him in question, unable to imagine any race willingly adopting a dismal place like this as their home.

  


  


"No," Haldir concluded. "They were natural miners. They liked mining the earth for riches and their kingdoms in the mountains were impressive, even if they were an impossible race to fathom."

  


  


"I seem to recall you fathomed one quite well," Legolas threw Haldir a look. "If memory serves, you two were very much alike."

  


  


"Not that much," Haldir said frostily, not finding comparison to a dwarf very complimentary, no matter how much of an understanding he had with Gimli.

  


  


"So what were these dwarves like?" Bryan questioned further, sensing an interesting history behind Haldir's obvious distaste for the comparison.

  


  


"Oh they were a lively people," Gandalf replied remembering Aule’s children affectionately, "they loved to do battle and aside from being exquisite craftsmen, they had quite the skill in making brew,"

  


  


"And drinking it," Legolas smiled thinking about the drunken escapades that the Fellowship had experienced during the pauses in their journey, in particular those involving Boromir, Aragorn and Gimli.

  


  


"I think I like these dwarves," Bryan remarked with a smile.

  


  


"Hey didn't you die in Moria. Gandalf?" Aaron declared, suddenly recalling that particular fact about the Fellowship's journey.

  


  


"Well yes," Gandalf said not at all disturbed by the fact, "however, I did not stay dead and that was the important thing."

  


  


"He has a habit of doing that," Aaron explained helpfully to Bryan. "I put a bullet in him a year ago and he still came back. It’s a wizard thing."

  


  


Legolas and Haldir exchanged glances and rolled their eyes in resignation at Aaron's simplistic explanation. Even though Legolas considered Gandalf his friend, he could never forget that beneath the benign exterior of the pleasant old man was a powerful Istar who was not all the human he appeared to be. He was of the Maiar and commanded more respect than it appeared humans were capable of comprehending or affording him. Fortunately, it was one of the reasons why Gandalf had such affection for the race. 

  


  


"What killed you?" Bryan asked suspiciously.

  


  


"Well it did not exactly kill me but we did fight a rather pitched battle and in the end it is safe to say that we both succumbed to the injuries sustained during the conflict," Gandalf explained. "However, it was the _balrog_ who succumbed first."

  


  


"Well at least you're not being competitive about it," Aaron teased.

  


  


"Balrog?" Bryan inquired further.

  


  


"It is a creature the size of a small building, breathed in flame and carries lashes of fire," Legolas answered. "It was one of Morgoth's creations during the First Age. Gandalf killed the last of its kind known to exist in Moria."

  


  


"You know, I'm hearing a lot about things that are supposed to have been killed and yet my spider sense is telling me that they are about as extinct as that thing underneath Malcolm's building," Eve pointed out.

  


  


"Are you still on about those bloody spiders?" Bryan gave her a look wondering how she could be so sensible and yet so typically female at times. "How can you be unafraid to wax your legs and be terrified of something that small?"

  


  


"Waxing legs?" Aaron had to weigh in.

  


  


"Have you ever tried it?" Bryan stared at him.

  


  


"No, but I'm interested to know when _you_ have," the doctor returned with interest. 

  


  


"I am not afraid," Eve barked back haughtily. "I'm just saying that a lot of things that aren't suppose to exist anymore appear to be popping up so I'm a little skeptical about the validity of what is really dead and what's not."

  


  


The two were so busy arguing that neither had noticed that the others had come to a pause until Eve ran into Aaron who was staring ahead with a grimace slashed across his face whilst rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache coming on.

  


  


"Eve," Aaron sighed, hating it when she was right, _especially_ now. "Brace yourself."

  


  


"What?" Eve replied before facing front and finding the rest of the passageway barred to them by a thick, fibrous material that had an odd resemblance to a very large, spider's web.

  


  


***********

  


  


Tory had not been able to hear much of David Saeran’s audience with Fred but she did recognize the sound of the child’s terrified tears. Fighting the urge to burst into the room and rescue the girl from the dark lord’s clutches, Tory waited in the darkness, unobserved for the moment, grateful that she had retained her calm. Fortunately, being a barrister in the arena of the courtroom had taught her control and so she maintained her because any effort on her part to mount such a rescue would only result in getting her and Fred killed. 

  


  


When Tory heard the door open, she hurried back into the corridor and saw Saeran emerging first before taking himself up the sweeping staircase to the upper part of the mansion. After his departure, she saw two of the Ringwraiths appear and Tory hurried back the way she came, retreating as far as the garage. She observed the wraiths flanking the little girl who was still clutching her doll, her face an expression of misery as they led her down the spiral staircase again. Tory prayed they had no second sight to speak of because her life and that of Fred’s depended on how long she could move about Saeran’s bastion freely. As it was, she was rather surprised that she had not been discovered already but supposed that a being dedicated to wiping the human race from the face of the earth may not be predisposed to keeping too many of them in his household, even as servants.

  


  


Tory withdrew to the garage once more, peering through the crack of its door and heard footsteps intermingled with Fred’s tears when the wraiths reached the bottom of the spiral staircase with their prisoner. As anticipated, they took the route down the other staircase she had seen earlier that disappeared through the floor to the lower levels of the mansion. Fred was not struggling to escape them but Tory suspected that this might simply be because she was too frightened to do so. As far as David Saeran was concerned, Fred was the modern day personification of his most hated enemy and was not subject to compassion despite being six years old. 

  


  


Tory waited until after the wraiths had disappeared beneath the stairway when Fred’s cries had become faint like their diminishing footsteps. She did not know how long she lingered in the darkness, debating whether or not it was the right moment to begin her pursuit, until concern for Fred’s well being won over good sense. Finally, she forced herself out of the shadows and followed the route taken by the Nazgul. Tory took great pains to be silent when she made her way down the steps, feeling as if she were being lowered to the bottom of a dark well because the staircase seemed to delve very deep beneath ground level. When she paused in the middle of her descent to gaze upwards, Tory could see only a faint glimmer of light above.

  


  


It was many minutes before she finally reached the end of the staircase and found that it emptied into a network of corridors. Some were remnants of the mansion but others appeared recently constructed. Corridors constructed with huge bricks of roughly cut stone vanished into smooth concrete walls, painted over. The newer corridors came equipped with power cables, conduits and electric lights running along the ceiling at regular intervals while the older section was not. There were lights but these were against the wall and it felt as if choosing one or the other felt like stepping through time somewhat. Even the air was fresh and ventilated. 

  


  


Each of the doors along these corridors came equipped with swipe card security locks. For a moment she was struck with the memory of being in the Research and Development section of one of her client’s companies. Certainly there was an antiseptic scent about the place; quite a feat when the rest of it looked like it was straight out of the Middle Ages. Instinct told her that she had stumbled upon something important but for the life of her could not see what that was. More than anything she wished Bryan were here, he would know what this place was in a second. 

  


  


What goes on here? She wondered.

  


  


Tory was almost tempted to investigate but then she remembered why she had come down here in the first place and the realization that she had no idea which direction the Nazgul had taken Fred struck her with a sense of growing despair. The possibility that she might have lost the child horrified her but no sooner than the thought had crossed her mind, she heard footsteps again. Taking refuge behind one of the corners, she saw the wraiths returning to the stairway once more, Fred ominously absent. Tory took note of their direction, particularly which corridor they had emerged and waited until they were well out of sight before taking that route herself.

  


  


The corridor taken by the Nazgul was less traveled if the dust and the cobwebs were any indication. When she made her way down it, she noticed that it had adjoining passages that broke off and ran into darkness and Tory’s investigation of one of these junctures led her to what appeared to an underground cavern. It ran as far as the eye could see, though that was not very much because the lights here were nowhere as efficient as the fluorescent globes on the rest of the floor. Fortunately, she knew that the Nazgul had not taken Fred here because as she drew further away from the center of the underground complex, she began to hear faint sounds echoing down the corridor. 

  


  


It was the sound of a child’s screaming. 

  


  
  
The terrified cries prompted Tory into a run and she followed the terrified wails quickly. It was not long before lights faded from view and the air began to turn dank and musty. As she left the last light globe behind her, she noticed the paved floor giving away to dirt. Cobwebs became more frequent and she was brushing away thin ropes of dust from her path. Fred’s screams grew louder and more frantic. Despite being in almost in pitch-black darkness, Tory knew she was at least going the right way. Reaching into the handbag which she had miraculously managed to keep with her during this entire ordeal, she found the lighter she had never bothered to get rid off even though she stopped smoking more than a year ago. It provided her with some illumination as she continued onwards, determined to reach Fred because the child sounded so terribly afraid. 

  


  


Why shouldn’t she be? Tory asked herself as she hurried forward, unable to run very fast because she needed the lighter to see ahead. She could hear rats squeaking in the darkness and shuddered in disgust. The little girl was alone in a dungeon. Inwardly, Tory was burning with fury and outrage at the cruelty of it. Surely Saeran could see Fred was little more than a baby, with no memory of the person she had been in the ancient past. How could he gain any satisfaction from avenging himself on a six-year-old child who had no idea what she had done to him? 

  


  


The screams had degenerated into loud, gasping tears and Tory could sense that Fred was near hysterical from her confinement. The child was screaming for her mother and that seemed to tug at Tory’s heart even more. While Tory was well aware that Fred’s parents were only recently murdered, she had been surprised at how silent the little girl had been on the subject. Tory supposed Bryan’s presence had made it a little easier for Fred to bear but now she was like any six-year-old in a terrible situation, crying out for her mother, even though the woman was dead. 

  


  


When Tory turned a corner at last and reached the small room the crude passageway had emptied into, she understood why Fred’s stoic manner had crumbled so. The lighter gave out at that moment but it had provided enough illumination for Tory to see it. With the exception of a circular cast iron grate on the floor, the room was empty. Tory clicked the button on her lighter again, managing to coax enough of a flame to provide her with light. The illumination did not halt Fred’s tears as Tory stepped forward and saw that the grate was locked by a crude bolting mechanism. Fortunately, there was no padlock of any kind, meaning it could be opened without the need for a key. 

  


  


Tory heard Fred’s cries emanating from _beneath_ the grate. 

  


  


Tory ran forward and dropped to her knees at the edge of the grate where stone met iron, "Fred, it’s okay. It’s Tory, I’m going to get you out here!" She said quickly, trying to calm the child down. 

  


  


The child did not answer and her silence was more terrifying than where Tory had found her. Deciding that Fred’s mental state could wait until Tory removed her from her nightmarish cell. The barrister fumbled for the bolt and pushed it forward and across, removing it from the metal sheath that kept it secured. She could understand why two wraiths were needed to escort Fred here because as she tried to move the cover, it required almost every ounce of her strength to pull it across the top of the pit. However, Fred’s freedom was a powerful incentive and she created enough of a gap to lower herself into it. 

  


  


It was not much of a drop to the floor and climbing out would prove no problem for Tory but for Fred it would have been impossible to even touch the grate. 

  


  


"Fred, I’m here," she came to the little girl.

  


  


"I want Bryan!" Fred wailed as she ran forward, wrapping her arms around Tory as she sobbed pitifully against the woman’s body.

  


  


Tory picked her up and held her tight in a warm embrace, "its alright dearest," she cooed softly in the child’s ears. "He’ll come back to us soon but I’m here now and I won’t leave you again, no matter what happens."

  


  


"You have to go away," Fred looked up tearfully, her word escaping her in stutters. "He said he would hurt you if you came to help me."

  


  


"He won’t hurt me," Tory returned firmly as she moved towards the edge of the pit and raised Fred to the top. "I won’t let him hurt either of us."

  


  


Brave words, she thought silently to herself but Fred needed to believe it. Tory could not believe the evil that would allow anyone to put a child in a place like this. For the first time, she began to truly hate David Saeran instead of merely fearing him. Once she had ensured Fred was safely out of the pit, Tory climbed out herself. It was very dark so Tory flicked her lighter again, painfully aware that the fluid was not infinite. 

  


  
  
Fred embraced Tory again, crying a fresh set of tears at being reunited with someone who cared enough about her to come rescue her from this horror. At that moment, Fred adored Tory almost as much as Bryan. "Thank you for finding me," she said in a small voice. 

  


  
  
"I promised Bryan I would look after you," Tory said with a smile as she started leading Fred out of the room. "He would never have forgiven me if I left you in a place like this."

  


  


In truth, it was more than just the promise to Bryan that had forced her to do this. In the last few minutes when she was struck with the horror of what Saeran had done to the child, Tory had wanted nothing more than to protect this fragile little girl who had earned so many enemies in her short life. Someone had to protect her from these monsters and even if she was wholly inadequate to the task, Tory was determined to do so nonetheless. 

  


  


Tory had picked up Fred and started running up the way she came, wishing to leave this dungeon behind as fast as possible. She had no idea what she would do once they were back in the light but Tory was making this up as she went. The magnitude of their predicament was starting to unfold upon her because she had no idea where they were and how they could leave this place without drawing attention. They were almost back to the main center of the complex when suddenly, she saw a tall, sultry looking woman with cascading dark hair and hard flinty eyes standing in the middle of the corridor, with a group of men behind her. They were the same as the one who had invaded her house in England. 

  


  


"I was right," the woman said clearly, "there is someone here."

  


  


That was all Tory needed to hear before she spun around, clutching Fred tightly to her and running back the way they had just come. 

  


  


"Hold on to me," Tory ordered breathlessly as she saw the paved corridor give way to dirt once more. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration or rather desperation struck her and she hastened her pace, even though she could hear the men behind her giving chase.

  


  


"Where are we going?" Fred managed to ask.

  


  


Tory did not answer and skidded around the corner she knew would lead her to their only hope of evading capture. The darkness within the cavern beneath Saearan’s stronghold enveloped them whole as Tory ran into it, holding Fred tightly to her. The child’s weight in her arms was starting to wear her down but Tory was terrified of letting Fred go not when Saeran was so determined to lay his hands on her. Feeling the uneven ground of dirt beneath them, Tory saw the diminishing light of the corridor over her shoulder as she moved further into the cavern. She had been unable to see its boundaries earlier and as she scrambled into darkness, knew that the black had as much power to hinder their escape as well as hide them from their pursuers. 

  


  
  
"I have to put you down," she whispered softly to Fred as they move deeper away from what little light there was. "Hold my hand and don’t let go," Tory instructed as she lowered Fred to the ground. The child’s fingers immediately clasped her hand tightly and Tory found that she had to wave her own in front of her so that she could navigate through the darkness. Meanwhile the voices behind them grew louder, urging Tory deeper into the cavern even though she could see nothing before her. They had to get away before those men deduced what path they had taken. She took another step forward and found herself tumbling forward. 

  


  


There was not even time to scream when she went over the edge, her hand still locked around Fred’s as she took the child with her over the abyss.

  


  


**************

  


  


This was a new experience for Aaron actually.

  


  


Over the past year he had seen a gamut of emotions from Eve following their first meeting, their subsequent battles with John Malcom, their journey to Valinor and finally the life they shared together. He knew without doubt that he had always loved her and would do so until the day he died. How could he not when all he had to do was look at her and be struck with awe? Eve took his breath away by the sheer strength of her will. He had seen her face every situation with impeccable poise, not to mention courage and as a psychiatrist, it was quite something for him to be able to say with utter certainty that she was the strongest person that he knew. 

  


  


So he could be forgiven for being rather shocked when he saw how she reacted to finding the enormous spider web in the path they were bound to take in order to escape the mines and reach David Saeran. 

  


  


Which was not very well at all. 

  


  


"Oh no, no, no, " Eve backed away from the webbing, the _extremely_ large webbing, the webbing that was not for a _little_ spider as Bryan had so casually put it but something big, something _very_ big. "This is not happening. This is definitely not happening. That isn’t what I think it is," she started to rant.

  


  


"Well it is most definitely a spider’s web," Legolas remarked, baffled by the fact that Eve seemed to be confused by this. What else could it be?

  


  


Even Bryan had to wince at his timing and the MI6 agent glanced at Legolas with a look of sarcasm, "good one," he muttered.

  


  


"Eve," Aaron tried to calm her, "I’m sure its not that bad."

  


  


"Not that bad?" She stared at him. "A spider made that web! A very _big_ spider and that’s the only way out! Explain to me how this is not bad?"

  


  


"It could be more than one," Legolas added helpfully.

  


  


"Will you please shut up!" Aaron bit back at the elf in exasperation as Eve started to turn pale.

  


  


  


"What did I say?" Legolas asked in elvish, a little hurt. 

  


  


"What did you not?" Haldir shook his head in disbelief. 

  


  


"I can’t do it Aaron," she said seriously, her panic growing worse by the second. "You ask me to fight the worst damn demon in the universe and I’ll do it with a smile if I have to but I can’t deal with spiders. I don’t like them!" 

  


  


"Eve!" Aaron grabbed her hands and stared into her fearful eyes, "we don’t have time for this. I love you and I’ll be at your side every step of the way, but we have to keep moving. We don’t have a lot of time and you’re stronger than this. Courage is something you have a lot of and we’ve faced worst things."

  


  


"When?" She hissed.

  


  


"Don’t worry luv," Bryan added, actually trying to helpful since Legolas had inadvertently scared her half to death. "Spiders or not, they still don’t stand much of a chance of surviving the blast from a shotgun or an automatic. They’re not much scarier than wolves."

  


  
  
"As I recall, a wolf almost tore out my throat," Eve declared defiantly.

  


  


"Oh bloody hell," Bryan threw his hands up in the air. "What am I wasting time trying to make a _woman_ understand? You know a man wouldn’t have the least bit of trouble dealing with this and here I thought you had a little bit of sense to you. Just goes to show how you women are under pressure."

  


  


Aaron looked over his shoulder and wondered if Bryan was being antagonistic or was that actually some logic behind his words because he saw Eve taking great exception to being accused of feeling this way simply because she was a woman. 

  


  


"That’s not fair," Aaron came to her defense nonetheless, though somewhat carefully in case Bryan was _not_ being a jerk. "Its not her fault because she’s a woman."

  


  


"I can handle myself just fine," Eve blustered, her indignation well and truly provoked. "I may be scared silly because of that spider or spiders but it won’t keep me from doing what I have to! Come on!" She said riding a surge of anger as she walked past them. 

  


  


Aaron gave Bryan a look as Eve walked ahead to join Gandalf who was wearing a little smile on his face at the unfolding events, no doubt guessing what Bryan was about. 

  


  


"Not bad," Aaron muttered as he passed the Englishmen. It was most likely that when Eve actually saw a spider her bravado would evaporate but for the moment at least, they were on the move. 

  


  


"If there’s one thing I know how to do," Bryan replied with a grin, "it how piss off a woman."

  


  


"Amen to that," Aaron chuckled and hurried to catch up with Eve.

  


  


************

  


  


 

  


Unfortunately, it did appear that Legolas was right. If there were spiders about, there was definitely more than one of them. As the company delved deeper into the tunnels, they noted numerous remnants of webs, too much to be produced by just one creature. Eve was standing close to Aaron even though her gun was drawn and though he did not mention it, he saw that her knuckles were almost white from how hard she was clutching the grip. Bryan had angered her enough to make her enter the maw of her greatest fear but it could not erase it. Now that they were well into the arachnid’s realm, anger had given way to cold fear once more.

  


  


It did not help that they could hear the sounds of movement. The noises alternated between the heavy drag of a spider’s torso against the ground and the unbelievably chilling sound their numerous legs made against the dirt. Legolas and Haldir had armed their bows and the Mirkwood archer had taken flank next to Eve, in apology for frightening her out of her wits earlier.

  


  


"They are on the move," Legolas announced.

  


  


"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "They are being extremely cautious in how they engage us."

  


  


"Oh great, giant and smart," Eve shook her head in disbelief, unable to believe how she had come to be in a situation where they were being surrounded by large spiders. "They’re tracking us aren’t they?"

  


  


"More like stalking," Bryan commented. "If those webs are any indication of their size then these tunnels are too small for a concentrated attack. They’ll wait until we enter a larger chamber."

  


  


Aaron could see Eve was struggling to control her fear and took a protective step towards her. She glanced at him appreciatively as they continued down the mineshaft until it began to widen into a large chamber. The sounds that had dogged them for so the last hour or so had diminished but Aaron could see Legolas’ expression hardening as if he was sensing something they could not. Even the light from Gandalf’s walking stick could not provide illumination enough to see the entire breadth of the cavern. There were too many shadows and too many rocks to be certain that everything was what it appeared to be. 

  


  


"Be still," Legolas suddenly spoke.

  


  


"Why?" Aaron asked tautly.

  


  


The elf did not speak at first, uncertain how his news would be received. Unfortunately, the revelation had to be made. 

  


  


"They are all around us."

  


  


"Can you tell how many there are?" Bryan asked slowly, his finger tightening around the shotgun’s trigger in readiness to fire when the attack began. 

  


  


"At least ten," Haldir’s answer was followed by a sharp intake of breath from Eve. 

  


  


"We will continue forward," Gandalf instructed, taking a cautionary step forward. "I think we can risk a little more light to catch them unawares. When the moment comes, run as fast as you can. These beasts have stayed alive much longer than they should have. If anything, it is a credit to their cunning."

  


  


Eve scanned the roof of the cave and could see little in the darkness but she was certain that something was there, she could feel it. Bead of perspiration began to form against her skin even though it was freezing cold outside. She saw Gandalf trying to cross the cavern before the spiders attacked but knew inwardly that they had no chance of leaving this place without a fight. While she did not possess elven senses as such, she did have a strong sense of intuition and her instincts at this moment told her that they would be fortunate to escape with their lives. 

  


  
  
The silence was overwhelming, like the pause between armies just before someone decided to break ranks and strike the first blow. The company continued their slow journey across the cavern, painfully aware that their progress was being observed closely. Staring into the blackness, they could see the gleam of scarlet compound eyes looking back at them, waiting for the moment to pounce. Next to her, Aaron could feel Eve’s trembling as her fear reached climax and he was certain the creatures in the dark was savoring the scent.

  


  


"Why aren’t they attacking?" Aaron hissed voicing Eve’s impatience.

  


  


"Spiders are patient Aaron," Legolas explained, his bow armed and ready. "They wait until the moment suits them. We are already in their web, they need only to move in for the kill."

  


  


"Gandalf," Bryan looked at the wizard. "Whatever you’re going to do, do it now when they’re not expecting it. If we’re going to take them, we have to do it when _we’re_ ready, not when they are."

  


  


"You may be right," Gandalf nodded in agreement. "Be prepared to run at my word."

  


  


"You don’t have to worry about that," Eve replied hastily, trying to stop herself from trembling. 

  


  


"When they come at you," Legolas quickly explained while there was still opportunity, "aim your weapons at the eyes and the mouth. That is where they are most vulnerable and that will also prevent them stinging you with venom. In the portions they are capable of dispensing, one bite will kill where you stand."

  


  


"God," Eve grimaced. "Let’s just do this!"

  


  
  
No sooner than the words had left her mouth, a flash of brilliant white light suddenly flooded the cavern so intensely that for a moment, none of them could see. The sharp glare had even worse effect upon the dark bodies surrounding them as the creatures retreated at the overload to their visual receptors. 

  


  


"RUN!" Gandalf shouted and sprinted forward, taking advantage of the enemy’s momentary disorientation. 

  


  


The spiders’ distraction was temporary and they reacted with surprising speed once their prey was on the move. Despite their huge black bodies, their legs moved with incredible speed, scampering forward to converge upon the quarry attempting to flee the cavern. The spiders that had been suspended on the ceiling above as Eve suspected began to lower themselves into the killing zone, their gossamer thin webs perfectly taut as they descended. 

  


  


Eve saw her worst nightmare unfolding when the brilliant glare of Gandalf’s staff had subsided enough to let her see the spiders converging upon her. For a moment, all she wanted to do was run and hide. Certainly, a scream left her mouth when she saw them coming. All sensible thought left her mind as she stood there in the middle of the cave, unable to keep moving because the spiders had craftily blocked both exits. She jumped startled as she heard Bryan opening fire, sending a shotgun blast at the spider coming at him. He had taken Legolas’ advice and aimed the barrel at the spider’s head. The blast caused it to screech in pain and something slick and black splattered across the ground as it fell down dead. 

  


  


"Eve, watch out!" She heard Aaron shouted and turned around in time to see him tackle her to the ground as a spider came out of the darkness with terrifying speed and pounced. Eve let out a frightened cry as she saw it sail over their head, landing only a few feet away from them both. Eve scrambled away as it crawled forward towards them. Aaron rolled onto his knees and fired into the creature’s open maw. The bullets struck one compound eye and caused it to explode, spraying thick, viscous fluid that made her so sick, she was barely able to contain her urge to gag. However, it was still coming. Aaron prepared to fire again but the spider closed the distance between itself and the doctor with incredible speed, screeching loudly as its mandibles widened in anticipation of tasting flesh. Before Aaron could take aim, the spider was already upon him. 

  


  


Oh God, she thought frantically, Aaron!

  


  


"NO!" She ran forward and kicked hard, her boot landing firmly in the creature’s other eye. It retreated momentarily in pain but it was all that Eve needed. Without even thinking, Eve fired two shots at it and made them count. The first bullet tore through the spider’s remaining eye and the other entered through its gullet. Its screech became a gurgle of pain but it landed heavily against the ground, unmoving. She stared at briefly as its legs spasm jerkily, reminding her of its smaller cousins after a good dose of insecticide. The familiar churning of disgust assailed her but she forced it away because Aaron was right.

  


  


She was stronger than this.

  


  


"Thanks," Aaron looked at her; inordinately proud that she had managed to fight back her terror and confront her fear when he needed her most.

  


  


"Well I suppose you could call this aggressive therapy," she said breathlessly offering a hand to help him up when suddenly his expression hardened and he yanked her forward, causing her to fall on the ground beside him. 

  


  
  
Aaron emptied half a clip into the spider that would have ripped open Eve’s back with one of its leg if he had not acted when he had. The sound rocked the cavern as the barrage tore through the insect’s thorax and hideous skull. It did not matter that he aimed because he had released enough bullets to ensure that one of them met its mark. The spider’s advance halted with a splatter of black blood across them both, making Aaron flinch in disgust as the slick fluid made contact with his skin. 

  


  
  
"Are you alright?" Aaron looked at Eve who was recovering from the shock of almost meeting her end.

  


  


"Yeah," she nodded as she stared at him with a dazed expression. "I didn’t expect you to return the favor so soon."

  


  


"Well I am a psychiatrist after all," he remarked as he got up hastily to his feet. "What good am I if I can’t come to my patient’s rescue?"

  


  


Eve would have kissed him but this was hardly the time for it and they were nowhere out of danger. Seeking out their companions, Eve marveled briefly at the expertise of Legolas as he shot arrow after arrow at the spiders surging towards him, whether they came from the ground or from the ceiling. When he had claimed to hunt these things for sport, she had only half believed him but there was no doubt in her mind of it now. He might be awful pretty for an elf, she thought with a little smile but he was one hell of an archer and these spiders were no match for him. There was almost an expression of exultation on Legolas’ face as every arrow that left his bow met its mark with ruthless efficiency. If she did not know better, she would say that he had missed this little past time.

  


  


Legolas did not take their situation lightly and as he was faced with spiders coming at him from all directions, he knew that it would be too easy for confidence in his ability to get him killed but he could not deny it. Elbereth, he had missed those days when he would hunt the beasts of Mirkwood, when Sauron’s bastion at Dol Guldur had attracted evil to the woods of Eryn Lasgalen. 

  


  


He saw a spider attempting to lower itself upon him and quickly stepped out from under it, arming his bow with two arrows and firing them simultaneously across its torso. As expected, both arrows sank deep into the dark body and stole whatever agility to keep the beast aloft. Legolas stepped back, as it impacted hard against the ground only a few paces away from where he stood. He saw its blood spilling from its wounds and ended its misery with another well-placed arrow.

  


  


Surveying the efforts of his companions, his brow knotted in alarm when he saw Haldir fending off two of the creatures at once. Galadriel’s loyal servant was in need of help and Legolas found himself running past the carcasses he had produced in order to aid the march warden. Haldir had dispatched one of the spiders but did not have time enough to deal with the other. Before Legolas could arm his bow to fire, he saw the beast lash out at Haldir, its powerfully sharp leg tearing through flesh. Haldir let out a cry of pain as a gash of blood appeared over his chest.

  


  


"HALDIR!" Legolas shouted in a mixture of horror and rage. 

  


  


Haldir had fallen when the spider attacked and saw it closing the distance, with its mandibles snapping in preparation of tasting his blood. Reaching for his knife, Haldir plunged the blade deep into the creature’s eye, causing it to rear its head in pain at the white-hot agony that had blinded it. It slashed its leg at its victim and Haldir barely rolled out of the way to avoid the injury to his own which would have be truly debilitating if it were allowed. He anticipated another attack when suddenly, the beast flipped over onto its back in agony, its legs kicking air as two arrows protruded from its neck.

  


  


Legolas hurried to Haldir and offered him a hand, "you are hurt."

  


  


"Not as badly as it might appear," Haldir replied as he allowed Legolas to pull him to his feet, his eyes grazing the wound across his chest with distaste. 

  


  


"I could not allow you to be killed," Legolas said with clear relief on his face as well as sincere concern. "Who would vex me otherwise?"

  


  


"So you admit it," Haldir groaned in pain as he examined himself. 

  


  


"Only because you are injured," Legolas grinned.

  


  


"Hey!" Bryan suddenly interrupted as he ran past, "if you two ladies have finished the hugs and kisses, you think you might give me a hand here?" 

  


  


The human capped this statement off by whirling around sharply and discharging two blasts from his gun at an advancing spider. The powerful roar of the weapon was followed by the sickening sound of flesh exploding as the beast’s approach ended abruptly. He had barely a moment to savor his victory when he saw something moving in the corner of his eye. Bryan turned around just in time to see a spider leaping at him. The MI6 agent dropped back and rolled across the ground as it lunged, firing when the beast flew over his head. Its howl of pain prompted him to discharge the weapon again, this time sending a spray of shotgun pellets tearing through the spider’s underside. It landed metres from him, writing in pain and unable to move. Pivoting on one knee, Bryan swung towards it and took another careful aim to blow its head off. 

  


  


Their effort to reach the exit before the spiders had converged was more or less a moot point as more and more carcasses began to pile around the company of elves and men. The combination of bullets and arrows were making short work of the creatures suffering heavily under the assault. Even Eve had overcome her fear and was defending herself admirably, though Legolas noticed Aaron remained close by her side in case she faltered.

  


  


Gandalf was using his magic to defend himself, sending the creatures attacking him flying into walls or flung through the air as if they were their smaller counterparts. Legolas doubted that any of the spiders ever had a chance to come close to harming the Maia who had dealt with far viler things in his time. The creatures themselves were showing some sense of fear because Legolas could see them beginning to retreat, their dark bodies scurrying away through the even darker shadows to escape with their lives. 

  


  


"You were right," Haldir remarked as Bryan fired at a retreating spider, causing it to screech in pain as the bullet’s tore through its abdomen, "he has Boromir’s charm."


	12. Chapter Eleven: Gestation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an extended sequence in an NC17 rating for Tory's dreams, which I call an Interlude, you do not have to read it to follows the story.

  
  
Chapter Nine

 

 

****

Chapter Eleven

  


Gestation

  


 

Authors Note: There is an extended sequence in an NC17 rating for Tory's dreams, which I call an Interlude, you do not have to read it to follows the story.

Tory was having a very bizarre dream.

  


  
__

She standing on a balcony somewhere, overlooking a city that resembled very much the images Gandalf had inadvertently put in her head when he was trying to make her believe Aaronâ€™s incredible story about Middle earth and elves in general. It reminded her a little of the older cities in Europe. Certainly, the tall spires and the domed buildings that lay beneath them had great resemblance to the cities of Prague and Brussels. She was looking down at the vista from a great height because the building she was in seemed to be the apex in an expanding series of terraces. Above her, the full moon offered her no answers just more questions.

  


  


Tory was dressed in clothes that seemed to fit the period of that ancient past and was surprised by how comfortable they were to wear, despite the preconceived notion that women in such periods suffered intolerably because of impractical clothing. Glancing at her reflection in the glass door behind her, Tory was startled by how she appeared in the sweeping gown with her red hair, flowing over her shoulders like she was the heroine of some terrible Harlequin romance novel. If anything convinced her that she was dreaming, it was this surreal vision of herself. 

  


  


Staring into the room behind the window, she noted that there was something of a feast being celebrated if her memory about such occasions was accurate. The occasion whatever it was appeared to be something of a celebration. The formal part of the evening had apparently lapsed because guests were moving freely about, mingling with each other. Tory stared in fascination at the face assembled at the long wooden tables as servants ran back and forth across the room, which was obviously part of a castle, tending to the needs of the nobles present. In some ways, this felt like an even more potent dream than what she had experienced at Gandalfâ€™s hands and she wondered why the dreamscape had brought her here.

  


  


"Do you tire of the noise as well?" She heard a masculine voice behind her and turned around startled. However, his sudden appearance did not stun her as much as her first glimpse of him.

  


  


Tory found herself staring at Bryan, no she corrected herself almost immediately, not Bryan, but rather Boromir. He did not look that much older than his modern day incarnation although the longer hair and beard would lead to that misconception. The differences though subtle were marked to someone who knew how to look for it. Unlike Bryan's, this man's eyes were weary. She had the sense that he had spent a lifetime waging one battle or another and it was starting to take its toll upon him. It saddened her greatly to know that this was only the beginning of his deconstruction.

  


  


Tory suppressed a smile as she looked at him in the garb of a medieval nobleman and could not deny that it suited him somewhat. She wondered if her dreams had brought her here because of the suspicion that they would have been in each otherâ€™s lives if not for Boromirâ€™s untimely death. Whatever the reason, she could not deny that seeing him felt good, even in this place of unreality.

  


  


"Something like that," she remarked unable to think of what else. It certainly could not be the truth. In this day and age a story like hers would probably have her burnt at the stake for witchcraft but then again, this was the times of elves and wizards so perhaps it would not be so incredible after all. 

  


  


"I would have preferred to leave Minas Tirith without this fanfare," he frowned turning back to the vista of the city beneath them. "My father makes too much of this journey of mine to consult with the elves."

  


  


"You're going to see the elves?" Tory asked, wishing she had learnt a little more about this quest where he had lost his life.

  


  


"Yes," he nodded. "I have questions only they can answer and I pray it is to the benefit of Gondor because the Nameless One grows bolder each day. He has already assailed the Osgiliath, it will only be a matter of time before he turns his eyes towards the White City."

  


  


"You mean Sauron," Tory stated.

  


  


"I would not think a lady of your breeding would know of such things," he stared at her with mild surprise.

  


  


"You can overcome your fear if you don't have a name for it," she remarked, noting his raised brow at the statement.

  


  


"That is a good point my lady," he replied with a hint of admiration in his eyes and appeared to be paying more attention to her now that she had sparked his interest. "I have never heard it put in quite that manner but there is wisdom in what you say."

  


  


"Thank you," she said graciously as he studied her with the same penetrating gaze that Bryan had employed to unnerve her. 

  


  


"If my lady does not object, I would like to call on you when I pass through Anorien after my quest to see the elves is ended. I should like to see you again," the question escaped him rather meekly and Tory suspected that despite the persona of the warrior hardened by years of battle, there was a part of him that yearned for more than just his lot as Steward. She doubted that he had ever been in love or had the opportunity because the weight of responsibility had made it a luxury he could not have until Gondor was safe.

  


  


She wanted to say yes, that she would like it very much but Tory knew that there was no return for him, no future for either of them, even if this were not a dream. His destiny was sealed a hundred thousand years before she was born. The woman she had been in that life would go on to marry and have children, but she would do it with someone else, with this moment cherished forever in her heart as a monument to what might have been.

  


  


The sorrow of it was more than Tory could bear and she felt a surge of remorse for Boromir of Gondor. It was like a deep well of grief tugging at her, reminding her that he was not really gone and that he waited for her back in the world of the living. Still, the need to stay with this man and talk was powerful indeed. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be because already she could feel the pull of the waking world grow more insistent. 

  


  


She could not even say goodbyeâ€¦.

  


  


"Tory, wake up," she heard Fredâ€™s insistent voice drawing her out of the dream state with its urgency.

  


  


Her head throbbed as awareness flooded her psyche and the dream which had been so warm and comforting a moment ago, began to diminish in substance until all she was left with was this intense yearning she could not shirk off even in reaching consciousness. Despite this momentary uneasiness, her mind was quick to grasp that the voice rousing her limbo state had some measure of urgency to it. Where was Fred? The name echoed so loudly in her mind that it snapped her to clarity in less time then it took to open her eyes. Where was Fred? Was she safe? The vague memory of falling returned to Tory as she sat up shakily, aware of the tugging at her arm but had yet to equate it with her panicked question. She remembered hitting her head as she tumbled off some unseen precipice but after that, everything melted into darkness.

  


  


"Fred?" Tory answered, finally registering that the hand on her arm was the child in almost as much state of anxiety as she was over her welfare. In truth, Tory's injury was slight even though Aaron might argue that falling unconscious was never to be taken lightly after a fall. However, the pain was dull and aside from that, she seemed to have suffered no further effects.

  


  


"Fred, are you alright?" She asked groggily as rubbed the back of her head tenderly. She could barely see the girl because the place was in pitch-black darkness. The only reason she knew Fred was there at all was because she could see the faint silhouette of the little girl next to her.

  


  


"Iâ€™m okay, are you hurt?" Fred asked worriedly.

  


  


"Not enough to worry about," Tory said reassuringly before noticing something very odd about where they were.

  


  


She had not realized it before because she was too focused on Fred and the dull throbbing on the back of her skull. However, now that clarity had returned to her mind in more or less full measure, it was dawning on her. 

  


  


For starters, it was warm. Considering that this was Eastern Europe in the cold part of the year, it was unseasonably warm. She could feel beads of sweat began to form under her turtleneck sweater and it was not a dry heat that was customary for this part of the world in summer, it was a moist, damp heat. It should be impossible especially in this climate but there was no denying it, the air was humid and it clung to her skin uncomfortably. The temperature was almost equatorial, ranging somewhere she estimated between 30 to 40 degrees Celsius. She thought of how she had been freezing in the car earlier that night only to find herself here, perspiring in what felt like a greenhouse.

  


  


"Its hot," Fred mirrored her observation. 

  


  


"Yes," Tory started to stand when something else became apparent. The ground was warm.

  


  


At least she thought it was ground. As her palms pressed against it, expecting to feel dirt she was further unnerved by the sense that what she felt was not all rock or soil but something else all together. She thought of the stress ball a colleague had jokingly given her as a gift. It was ball of viscous fluid sealed with latex and when she squeezed it, it became distorted out of shape. The ground she and Fred were presently standing on felt like this. A think membrane of something separated them from the noisome fluid below it. When she pushed down, she could feel the displacement of liquid and the effect produced a ripple beneath them, like a waterbed.

  


  


Except not many waterbeds she knew were warm and were kept in caves.

  


  


"Fred," Tory said quietly, a horrific suspicion beginning to loom in her mind. "Feel around, my handbag should be around here somewhere."

  


  


"Okay," Fred answered obediently and Tory began searching for her handbag in their immediate vicinity. 

  


  


It could not fallen far, she thought to herself as she ran her hands over the ground, noticing g that it was very irregular. She herself had been sitting on something that was jutting out from beneath the membrane, something that was definitely not fluid. As her hand slid over it, her lack of vision to see what it was did not hinder her ability to discern what it was. Tory almost screamed in fright but restrained herself and her horror because such a reaction would only terrify Fred out of her mind. Trembling hard, she forgot all about her handbag as she reached for it again and shaped her palm around its contours.

  


  


It was someone's knee. Someone _alive_.

  


  


"I found it!" Fred's exclamation made Tory jump with fright.

  


  


Tory composed herself and moved to the girl who produced her handbag out of the darkness. Tory immediately began rifling through its contents, finding a notebook and her lighter in quick succession. Holding it at the edge of its spine, Tory immediately set alight the pages, in order to save the diminishing fluid of the lighter. The pages caught fire almost immediately and flooded the area with light. The amber glow spread out across the darkness, illuminating the walls of the cavern and creating shadows everywhere.

  


  


Tory almost wished it had not because what lay before them was exactly what she had expected only worse. 

  


  


The cavern itself was large but her discovery revealed that the floor of it was covered in the gelatinous material almost to its boundaries. The substance on the floor was thick and gray, covered with a thin layer of moisture. Tory looked up and saw that the humidity had covered the ceiling with condensation and droplets of water fell to the earth sporadically. Fred seemed to shrink nearer to her and in response Tory slid an arm around the girl's shoulder, as if she needed to feel her to know that Fred was safe, a visual confirmation would not do.

  


  


She was suddenly struck by the image of that terrible scene in Aliens, when Sigourney Weaver and her young charge had stumbled into the alien's nest. Unfortunately, Tory found the similarities between their present predicament and Ripley's alien queen to be terrifying similar. Although it was not Geiger's alien that lay beneath the membrane she and Fred were presently staring at, the danger was no different. She remembered the conversation in England, where Aaron had stated that Saeran could not hope to overwhelm the world of men even in the wake of a nuclear war without an army. He was right, mercenaries loved their own skin too much to sit by and watch their master.

  


  


She had to give David Saeran credit despite the horror of what she was seeing. He had needed an army but instead of buying one that could possibly turn on him after his nuclear assault upon the earth, he had decided to create one. She stared at her feet and saw beneath the gray membrane, so close that it was almost leaving indentations in the soft material, was a face. It was a face she had recognized when Gandalf had infused her mind with the memories of Middle earth.

  


  


"What are they?" Fred asked in a hushed voice.

  


  


"Uruk Hai," Tory replied, the words coming out of her mouth without her even questioning how she knew it. "They're Uruk Hai."

  


  


"What are we going to do?" Fred returned quickly, her eyes like sapphire orbs as she stared at the field of flesh before her.

  


  


"We're getting out of here," Tory said in a hushed voice, frightened that if she spoke louder, she might wake them.

  


  


She could see them moving by the ripples against the membrane. Oblivious to everything in their stasis, Tory wondered how many there were as she surveyed the cavern and saw an opening at the far end that was braced by wood and steel. A mineshaft? She thought to herself. The hope flared in her that if that were true; it could lead away from Saeran's mansion and this nightmare that she and Fred now found themselves. She had only a few seconds of light left because the note book was burning close to her fingers by now, however, she was gratified by the fact that she had some idea of which direction they were headed.

  


  


Beneath Tory's feet, the Uruk Hai sensed the movement. 

  


  


Left alone in their state of gestation, their senses were dull. They could sense little beyond the slow moving fluid that surrounded them. They knew that they were many but the beat of each other's hearts slowed by stasis was difficult to hear in their liquid environment. Until the proper stimuli was introduced, they would languish in this state like flies in amber. They had no sense of self other than they were and until it came upon them, had no idea what they needed to escape this limbo that had been their world. 

  


  


The pounding heartbeat that sliced through their lethargic senses, provoking a mixture of heightened awareness as well as pure simple joy in reveling in senses seldom used were as loud as drums. It did not take them long to focus on the source. Two heartbeats, beating strong and fast, reached out to them like a siren's song, awakening their dormant senses. Though they were eons of years apart in evolution, the orc races had began as elves and though the years had ensured that they were more or less a separate species in their own right, some characteristics of the First Born remained; in particular the sharp hearing and senses. 

  


  


This hearing told them something was near, something very much alive. Prey.

  


  


Tory had to discard the remnants of the notebook when she was no longer able to hold it. The flames had spread to the thick binding which took a longer time to burn but had the benefit of providing some further illumination in their journey out of the cavern. Fred remained close to her as they crossed the gestation chambers, trying not to become overwhelmed by the shape of bodies they could see through the think film of organic material encasing the creatures within. The temperature seemed to have risen as her turtleneck became so wet with moisture that it clung to her back. Looking down, she could see Fred's cheeks flushed red with heat. 

  


  


They were almost to the edge when suddenly she heard a sound. It was not very loud but Tory knew instantly what it was. 

  


  


"Fred run!" Tory ordered as the membrane began to rip. She looked over her shoulder and saw the fading embers of the notebook as the pages turned into live cinders. The fire had burned through the membrane and the creature beneath it plunged a powerful fist through the fissure, emboldened by the tear in the sheath. The membrane tore apart like rubber. The last thing Tory saw as the light gave up completely was the splatter of gelatinous fluid through the air as the first of the Uruk Hai broke through.

  


  


"RUN!" She ordered Fred who did not need to hear that command again after seeing the same thing. 

  


  


The little girl sprinted forward as the membrane began to twist and heave all over the place. Tory knew what was coming. The creatures were waking up. Whether or not it was because of the small fire she had started or the fact that she and Fred were simply present, it was an undeniable fact that they were tearing through their organic cages. She knew by sight what they were but beyond the logical belief she ought to be nowhere near when they awoke, Tory knew nothing else about the Uruk Hai. She could no longer see Fred in front of her as the darkness started to overwhelm her and as she ran forward, felt the ground become more and more unstable. They were _all_ starting to wake up.

  


  


Suddenly, something wrapped itself around her foot and pulled. The strength of that grip was more than enough to bring Tory down hard. She landed painfully against what she was certain was a shoulder and immediately felt it moving beneath her either objecting to the collision or awakening also. She could not see what had halted her but Tory did not wait to find out. Lashing out a foot, she stuck the first around her ankle and immediately felt it recoil. Scrambling to her feet, she prepared to run again and this time a whole arm reached out from beneath her and grabbed her coat. Tory pulled away frantically, feeling the fabric tear as she freed herself of it. 

  


  


She took another step forward and felt the air becoming rancid from escaping gasses now that the membrane was tearing across the cavern. The stench was foul and stomach turning. She remembered being at a murder scene once and being forced to endure the stink of a decomposing corpse. This was too similar. She wondered how many of them were being freed and was gripped with the sudden fear that she had heard nothing from Fred.

  


  


"Fred!" Tory shouted. She hated being unable to see anything, unable to see even the creatures reaching for her.

  


  


"Tory!" Fred's voice cried out. The child was frightened but not in distress, which relieved the woman greatly. 

  


  


"Where are you?" Tory called out as she felt another hand clawing at her back. She continued forward, her steps ungainly and each time she put her foot forward, she was uncertain whether or not there would be ground to support her. Surely she must have reached the dirt by now? She thought frantically to herself.

  


  


"I'm here!" Fred's voice reached for her through the darkness. "I'm on the ground Tory!"

  


  


Which meant she was safe, albeit temporarily.

  


  


"You stay there!" Tory ordered and struggled her way through the growing number of Uruk Hai awakening in the darkness. "I'm coming to you! Keep talking Fred! Keep telling me where you are!"

  


  


"I'm on the dirt Tory!" Fred repeated, "I'm not on the funny ground anymore!"

  


  


Tory used Fred's frantic words as a beacon to which she headed. Her own fear was rising as more and more and more efforts were made to halt her progress. Fred kept shouting, the little girl becoming her only light in the darkness. Tory sank her nails into the hand that grasped at her thigh, certain she had drawn blood by the howl of pain that the injury created. She could feel fluid against her skin, could feel it soaking into her clothes. She could hear them howling as they made their emergence and wondered briefly how many other caverns like this really were. She thought of the rooms upstairs, the clean anti-septic corridors that reeked of disinfectant and wondered if that's what Saeran was doing up there, creating his own private army using modern science and ancient magic. She thought that if they stopped her from leaving this place, she would die here.

  


  


"Tory," Fred called out again and Tory breathed a sigh of relief because the child sounded very close, almost in front of her. However, her elation at escaping the creatures was short lived when the heel of her boot pierced the membrane and the ground beneath her gave way with a loud tear. Tory barely uttered a scream when she plunged through into the gelatinous slime.

  


  


************

  


  


When David Saeran heard that there had been an unexpected visitor to his bastion, he was less than impressed. The Nine had captured the Ringbearer without having the slightest inkling that they had acquired a stowaway during their return journey. Now that same stowaway, a barrister from London no less was roaming freely beneath his domain, having rescued the Ringbearer from the tidy cell he had prepared especially for the child. The leader of the Nine had offered to seek out this intruder but when Irina Sadko had declared that she had seen Victoria Harding escaping into one of the gestation chambers for his army of Uruk Hai, Saeran ceased to worry so much. 

  


  


The Uruk Hai would no doubt take care of the problem once they felt the presence of life around them. The Uruk Hai with their superior hearing and their naturally aggressive manner would find Miss Harding very tasty indeed, however, what did concern him was the fact that he had no intention of having his vengeance thwarted. The Ringbearer was not going to be afforded so easy a death yet and so he dispatched the Uruk Hai that Irina had brought out of gestation. The creatures were eager for a fight and tasting woman flesh was a good way to blood his newborn minions.

  


  


"What about the others?" Irina asked, more than aware that her lover was having some uninvited guests. "They've passed the spiders. They're not far from the main complex."

  


  


"Once the trained Uruks have retrieved the child, they can deal with Olorin and his rabble. There are more than two hundred Uruks in that chamber awaking as we speak, unarmed or not, they can provide sufficient distraction to my enemies to ensure that keep out of my affairs."

  


  


"Is that all you want to do?" Irina said uncertainly as she regarded him in the dark room at the top of the mansion overlooking the balcony. It was still the middle of the night but she knew that these were his favorite hours. Saeran preferred the dark and often kept late hours. He expected the same of the humans working for him here and during the years of their service to him, had become accustomed to that particular eccentricity. "Keep them distracted?"

  


  


"More or less," Saeran said as he sat on the chair that she knew to be his throne. Though he had not spoken it, Irina knew that he considered it as such. The ornate carvings and tall straight back with its somewhat gothic design, not to mention it seemed to sit on a raised platform, seemed to confirm it. It suited him Irina decided because to her he was a god in his own right.

  


  


"You aren't concern that they might be a danger to you after?" She asked concerned and took a step towards him. As always, she lowered herself to sit at his feet, like an obedient dog next to a loved master.

  


  


"They will be more concerned with other things at that point. The humans most certainly and the elves will wish to return home. Only Olorin will be stubborn enough to attempt to reach me but he will be at a considerable disadvantages at that point."

  


  


"It concerns me," she looked at him.

  


  


Saeran smiled faintly and brushed her hair with his fingers. He wondered why he indulged himself with her sometimes. It certainly did him no good and at times proved to be quite distracting. However, the human shell he wore craved her touch and often and she had been a loyal and devoted servant, not to mention companion since swearing body and soul to him.

  


  


"You should not be," he gazed at her with a smile, "very soon you will sit at my side as more than just my chief geneticist and the creator of my menagerie, you will be my consort."

  


  


"Like a queen?" She teased.

  


  


"I rule with no one," he said with a predatory smile. 

  


  


Irina took no offence. She did not expect such because he was a god and mere mortals could not hope to snare one such as him.

  


  


"I was sent word today from your European office," Irina replied, wisely changing the subject. "Apparently one of Malcolm's projects has seen some measure of success."

  


  


"I thought I'd discontinued most of his expeditions," Saeran answered with annoyance. Melkor was never good at planning and his efforts tended to be scattered. The man was incapable of producing a scheme that was little more than a clumsy tapestry. When he had assumed control of Malcolm Industries, Saeran had found himself going through Malcolm's projects, putting an end to many of them because he needed to consolidate his resources for the grand scheme that was days away from completion.

  


  


"Well the expedition team has been in a very remote location for the last eighteen months so I doubt they would have time to issue the proper paperwork for us to be aware enough to halt the funding," Irina explained, having become his associate as well as his lover since Malcolm's demise. 

  


  


This caught Saeran's interest somewhat, "which one?" 

  


  


"Project Maedhros," she replied not recognizing the name.

  


  


Saeran stared at her for a moment before shaking his head in disgust; "he was always obsessed with _jewels_."

  


  


************

  


  


They had walked for hours and it was starting to feel as if they would never find a way out of the network of mineshafts they had been forced to traverse since being sealed into the cavern by Saeranâ€™s men. The elves in particular were starting to feel the effects of the confined spaces. It appeared that elves were somewhat claustrophobic and though they had so far managed to contain the uneasiness of their situation. Aaron could see they were eager to find a way out of this dark labyrinth of rock. Fortunately, after their encounter with the spiders, their journey through the caves had continued without incident. 

  


  


The interlude was welcomed especially for Eve who was recovering from her confrontation with her worst nightmare. For Aaron, it had been something of a revelation because he had never seen her afraid of anything and knowing that she sometimes felt vulnerable, made him feel as if he could contribute something to her life, just as she contributed something to his. They walked for what seemed like hours, with Gandalf leading the way. The wizard seemed to know where he was going which was just as well. To Aaron, the mineshafts looked all the same and he was still certain that there was more down here than just spiders. 

  


  


For awhile they had talked, as if needing conversation to make them cope with the danger they faced but as the trek progressed, all had lapsed into silence. Even Gandalf, who had been commenting about everything, had not spoken in awhile and though it might seem ominous, Aaron knew everyone was reflecting on their own thoughts. However, now that it was quiet, he hastened his pace so that he could talk to Bryan. Something had been on his mind since Craiova but Aaron had remained silent, biding his time and deciding whether or not it was his place to say anything.

  


  


"Hey Bryan," Aaron called out coming up alongside the man. "Can I ask you something?"

  


  


"Sure," Bryan gave him a sidelong glance, having anticipated this conversation for some time now and was surprised it had taken him this long to broach the subject.

  


  


"I know itâ€™s none of my business and you can tell me to butt out except that I probably wonâ€™t," Aaron warned with a little smile.

  


  
  
"Fair enough," Bryan retorted, starting to become accustomed to the doctorâ€™s odd sense of humor.

  


  


"Look youâ€™re an okay guy," Aaron said first off. "Reincarnation aside, youâ€™ve saved our necks through this more times than I can think and we wouldnâ€™t be any kind of shape to deal with Saeran if it wasnâ€™t for you. Youâ€™ve saved Eveâ€™s life and Iâ€™ll never be able to thank you enough for that but Tory means a lot to me as well. I donâ€™t love her the way I love Eve but my feelings for her are just as strong. I donâ€™t want to see her hurt."

  


  


"Youâ€™re right," Bryan looked him the eye and replied, "it is none of your business but in deference to the fact you care a great deal for her and that Iâ€™m not exactly the ideal suitor, Iâ€™ll say this much. I care about her and I wonâ€™t hurt her. However, you of all people should know that it doesnâ€™t always work out, even if you do care about each other a lot."

  


  


"I know," Aaron had to concede that, "its just that she loved Stuart even though they were divorced and it was bad enough when he was killed so I donâ€™t want to see her hurt again."

  


  


"I wonâ€™t hurt her," Bryan replied sincerely and he meant it. However he was incapable of expressing his emotions about Tory any more deeply than that. There was a lifetime of walls built around his emotions and he had guarded them too long to ever allow anyone see just how deeply or passionately he felt things. "Iâ€™m not promising it will be all moonlight and roses but I wonâ€™t hurt her. You can have my word on that."

  


  


"Thatâ€™s good enough," Aaron replied willing to accept that because he sensed Bryan was not one to give his word lightly. 

  


  


He was about to say more when suddenly, he noted Bryanâ€™s gaze becoming hard and focussed. Following his line of sight, Aaron saw that he was staring at the elves. Both Legolas and Haldir had come to a stop. Legolasâ€™ face showed a mask of concentration as if he were trying to discern something in the darkness.

  


  


"What is it?" Aaron asked first.

  


  


"I hear something," Legolas said striding forward past Gandalf, "up ahead."

  


  


"What?" Bryanâ€™s inquiry corresponded with the MI6 agent reaching for his gun. 

  


  


"I am uncertain," Legolas confessed, "it is some distance away."

  


  


"The rest of you," Aaron looked at Gandalf, Eve and Haldir, "stay here for a moment. Weâ€™ll check this out."

  


  


"Butâ€¦" Eve started to protest.

  


  


"Just hang back okay?" Aaron replied. "If we get into trouble weâ€™re going to need you to get us out of it."

  


  


"We will wait," Gandalf answered in understanding, "be careful."

  


  


Aaron nodded in acknowledgement before he followed Legolas and Bryan who were hurrying up the passage, a torch being their only means of light. Of course Legolas saw better in the dark despite the elvesâ€™ natural dislike of caves. With the beam lighting their way, Legolas closed in on the sound. It was still muffled and incoherent but distance was adding some measure of clarity to it. 

  


  


"Someone is screaming," Legolas said after a moment.

  


  


"Screaming?" Bryan looked at him. 

  


  


"Yes," he nodded. "It is still some distance ahead."

  


  


Despite being uncertain whether or not they wanted to find what had caused the screaming, the trio continued ahead through the dark and winding mind shaft. The dank air had suddenly become fetid and the temperature seemed to be increasing. All three were dressed for the cold Romanian weather and after delving deeper into the passage, found the effects of the heat affecting them acutely. 

  


  


"How can it be getting warmer in here?" Aaron asked, not expecting an answer.

  


  


"I do not know," Legolas said wiping the perspiration from his brow and trying not to become queasy from the awful stench. "However, the smell turns my stomach though I find it oddly familiar."

  


  


Aaron looked at him, "I donâ€™t like the sound of that," he retorted.

  


  


"Quiet," Bryan hissed because the screaming was becoming audible to human ears and he was listening closely, trying to make out if investigating it would only bring them into more danger. "Listenâ€¦."

  


  


Both Aaron and Legolas felt silent and Aaron strained to listened as they continued forward, the tone became sharper and clearer until he was able to identify it. It was definitely screaming but the words were still inaudible to him. 

  


  


Unfortunately for Bryan, the words were unnecessary because he knew the voice. Bryan stiffened when he heard that distant ear-piercing scream and recognized it almost instantly. Even in the dim light of the passage, Aaron could see his expression becoming ashen. A gamut of emotions crossed his face in a split second, disbelief, acceptance and finally panic. 

  


  


"It canâ€™t be," Bryan muttered still in a state of astonishment. "It canâ€™t bloody well be!" 

  


  


"What are you talking about?" Aaron demanded as he saw Bryan burst into a full stride sprint, leaving them behind as he tore down the tunnel like his life depended on it. 

  


  


"Bryan! What the fuck is it?" Aaron demanded anxiously. 

  


  


"FRED!" Bryan shouted back without pausing, his voice panicked. "Its Fred! Sheâ€™s down here!"

  


  


***********  
  


  


Tory tried to scream but there were hands grabbing her through the darkness as the thick, viscous fluid swirled turgidly around her. She felt her stomach heave at the feel of the cold gelatinous substance against her skin and felt it seeping past her clothes. However, she was not alone in this hell and though she was unaware of it, her unceremonious entry into their gestation membrane was a siren song that had them clamoring towards her. The Uruks were disorientated and confused from their sudden awakening and in such straits acted violently. She felt a powerful arm slip around her neck, trying to drag her below. 

  


  


She struggled hard, hearing Fred screaming after her in terror, unable to answer because the creature was forcing the air out of her throat. She struggled to break free but he was so strong that she barely got his arm to move as she dug her nails into his flesh. The pain only made him shake her about like a doll and made it difficult to remain on her feet. The fluid she had fallen into was not deep, in truth it was no more than waist high but the touch of it against her skin made it crawl with disgust and within reach of these creatures was not a good under any circumstances.

  


  


She felt others clawing at her but an angry snarl told Tory that she was a source of dispute as her captors wrenched her away from the grasp of the others. She had no wish to be the exclusive property of any one of these creatures especially when the arm lock around her throat had not slackened. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe and if it kept shaking her each time she struggled, it was going to break her neck. Somehow, she had to break free. With only one way left to her, Tory sank her teeth into its arm and bit down until she broke skin. 

  


  


The Uruk screamed in pain and shoved her away from him. Tory almost gagged at the taste of Uruk blood not to mention the resinous substance he was covered with. Breaking free from him, she struggled away but the darkness and the struggle had confused her sense of direction and she had no idea which direction to go. She could hear more of them coming towards her, closing in on her and knew that if they converged upon her, they would most likely tear her apart.

  


  


"FRED!" Tory cried out, "where are you?"

  


  


"Iâ€™m here!" Fred shouted frantically, having driven into silence when she could no longer Tory, fear silencing her briefly. "Iâ€™m here Tory!" 

  


  


Tory let out a relief gasp and started towards the direction of the childâ€™s voice. She had to reach Fred; she had to get away from these creatures. Hearing them all around her and being unable to see except in dark silhouettes had heightened Toryâ€™s terror beyond her ability to act. She felt a hand reach for her and slapped it away instinctively, ignoring the others that raked across her back. She was covered in slime, which to a certain extent was useful, because she was too slippery for them to get a firm hold off. However, this would not last and as she heard Fred making noise so that she could find her way to the edge where the little girl waited, she knew that eventually the Uruks would turn their attention to Fred.

  


  


Suddenly, she felt her foot hit what appeared to be rock and Tory gasped loudly at the discovery that she had finally reached Fred. She started to climb out and felt Fredâ€™s small hands trying to help her up. 

  


  


"Come on Tory," Fred said urgently, as Tory struggled to climb out of the pit. The entire cavern began to fill with snarling noises and Tory knew that the rest of the Uruk Hai had finally awakened. If the memories Gandalf had planted in her head were at all accurate, the Uruks were well adapted for the darkness and could most likely see them with far greater clarity then she could see them. She could hear them swirling through the mire, closing in on her.

  


  


"Fred, get away from here. Try and find your way to the mine shaft!" 

  


  


"No," Fred shook her head. "I wonâ€™t go without you!"

  


  


"Fred, please!" Tory exclaimed as she pulled herself up the edge but the slime on her hand and her body was making this exceedingly difficult. "Iâ€™ll be right behind you!"

  


  


No sooner than the words had left her mouth, something sank it teeth into her shoulder and dragged her away from the edge, away from Fredâ€™s ineffective efforts to pull her up. Tory let out a short scream as she felt warm blood running down her shoulder, feeling the rising tide of fluid around her. The Uruk was dragging her beneath the surface, his teeth still in her shoulder. The last of her courage gave way at that moment and in her terror, she did not see the flickering beam of a flash light piercing through the mineshaft she had seen earlier. A desperate scream escaped her, filled with terror and defeat.

  


  


*************

  


  


Bryan entered the cavern with Legolas and Aaron close behind. Legolas had been holding the torch, mostly because he had taken the lead in their exploration. She heard Fred screaming Toryâ€™s name after a gut-wrenching scream filled the cavern and him with dread at the same time. The beam of light found Fred and the child turned towards him, her eyes widened like that of a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. Her tiny face showed intense relief and she ran towards him, forgetting momentarily that she was trying to help Tory. However, the lapse was temporary.

  


  


"Bryan!" She squealed before she even reached him, "Toryâ€™s in trouble!"

  


  


Bryan swept his gaze to the writhing bodies near the edge where Fred had been standing and called out because he could not see Tory. 

  


  
  
"Tory!" He shouted.

  


  
  
"BRYAN!" A desperate scream ran through the dark. 

  


  


Without thinking, he jumped into the vicious fluid as Aaron and Legolas reached the edge. Aaron grabbed the torch from Legolas and aimed it in the direction of that frightened scream. Legolas armed his bow immediately and was searching the bodies for Tory and Bryan.

  


  


"I see her!" He shouted. "Bryan, she is right in front of you!"

  


  


The beam of the flashlight illuminated the space before him and he saw Tory trying desperately to fight off the beast whose teeth were digging into her flesh. Others were clawing at her and Bryan reacted instantly, turning his gun upon the creatures and firing. The first shot echoed through the cavern so loudly it almost sounded like a clap of thunder. A few of the creatures surrounding Tory had retreated at the noise while the unfortunate recipient of the shotgun blast sunk into the fluid, a stain of crimson expanding around him. Legolasâ€™ arrows were soon striking others that attempted to converge upon Tory. Aaron wanted to join the rescue effort but considering the darkness inside the cavern, he could serve better by holding the torch so Bryan could see.

  


  


Bryan closed the distance between himself and Tory, slamming the butt of his rifle into the creature that attempted to waylay him one efficient swing. He ignored the sound of crunching bone because he could see Tory being dragged under by her attacker. Unfortunately, Bryan could not fire at this range without harming her and as her eyes met his in nothing less than absolute terror, the MI6 agent felt himself suffused with rage. He moved faster and arrived just as battle to stay afloat began to waver and the noisome fluid was rising around her neck. The creature had released her shoulder and was putting its effort in submerging her when Bryan reached them.

  


  


Wasting no time, Bryan jammed the barrel of the shotgun into its face and pulled the trigger. The blast that erupted turned its face into a mass of ruined flesh and blew out the back of its skull. It released Tory immediately and she broke away instantly, coughing loud and wincing in pain. There was blood and fluid running down her shoulder as she tried to compose herself. She was not quite hysterical but the ordeal had taken its toll upon her as the tears ran down her cheeks.

  


  


"Come on," Bryan took her by the arm and started pulling her towards the edge. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her because she was badly frightened but they were not out of trouble yet.

  


  


Tory nodded, shocked by his timely appearance but relieved at the same time. However, pain and fright had robbed her of the ability to speak and was content at the moment to let him lead her out of this nightmarish place. With Legolas covering their retreat with his precisely shot arrows and Bryan treating anyone who attempted to stop them with his gun, they reached the edge she had almost climbed over before the Uruk had stopped her. Her shoulder strung with pain and she knew that the warmth she felt was not merely the disgusting byre of the creatureâ€™s emergence. She was bleeding and her shoulder felt as if it was on fire. 

  


  


Upon reaching the edge, Bryan placed his hands on her waist and hoisted her to the top. Tory scrambled onto the stone ledge, never so grateful to feel dirt under her nails in her entire life. Bryan climbed out after her as Aaron helped her the rest of the way. 

  


  


"What the hell are those things?" Aaron demanded as he saw Tory trembling so badly, he feared that her mind had snapped under the terrible trauma she had just endured. 

  


  


"I think they are Uruk Hai," Legolas said with a hint of astonishment in voice.

  


  


"What?" Bryan managed to ask as he felt Fredâ€™s arms wrap around him in a joyful embrace.

  


  


"Orcs," Legolas replied. "They were dark servants of Sauron during the all the ages of his rein and that of Morgoth upon the earth. I assumed that they had faded away with the passing of Middle earth."

  


  


"Tory, are you alright?" Aaron asked, not really listening. "Come on Red," he said insistently. "Talk to me, give me a sign here."

  


  


Tory was breathing hard, frightened out of her mind but the stupor of fear that had gripped her was passing because she was no longer alone. She and Fred were no longer alone. She heard Aaronâ€™s voice but knew that it was Bryanâ€™s eyes that were boring a hole through her skin with his intent gaze. "We have to go," she whispered softly, "theyâ€™re waking up."

  


  


"She is right," Legolas agreed immediately, "let us be away from here now. These Uruks are young but they thirst for blood nonetheless. This cavern is large and it appears that Sauron has grown many of them. This is the army he will used to cover this world in darkness. You were right about that Aaron, he would not risk using humans for what lies ahead."

  


  


"Can you walk?" Aaron asked her.

  


  


"Yes," she nodded rising quickly to her feet, the imperative to escape cutting through her fear. "Iâ€™m damn well walking out of here," she answered, her strength returning to her somewhat.

  


  


They hurried out of the cavern, with Bryan carrying Fred in his arms as they put suitable distance between the newborn Uruks and themselves. Making their way through the passage leading away from the birthing chamber, they did not stop until they arrived at an adjoining cavern. Legolas took watch at the mouth of the smaller cave, ensuring that they werenâ€™t followed as Aaron tended to Toryâ€™s wound. Bryan had set Fred down in order to see how she was. Fred appeared well enough but Tory, Tory concerned him greatly.

  


  


"What happened?" Bryan asked as soon as the opportunity presented itself. "What are you doing here?"

  


  


"What am I doing here?" She stared at him wondering if he had any idea what she and Fred had been through since they had gone their separate ways. "The next time you reach the brilliant deduction that it is safer for us to separate, spare us! Less than an hour after you left us at the train depot, the Nine came aboard and took Fred. If I had not stowed away in the boot of their car, I would have lost her! You didnâ€™t see where he kept Bryan!" 

  


  


Bryan did not know what to say. He could see that both of them had been through an ordeal but he was certain that having them leave was the safest course of action. "I did what I thought was best."

  


  


"Well donâ€™t!" She hissed. 

  


  
  
"Tory donâ€™t be mad," Fred quickly interjected. "Bryan didnâ€™t mean to hurt us."

  


  


Tory looked down at the child, Fredâ€™s pleading blue eyes assuaging her anger somewhat. Tory knew that she was behaving like this because she had been frightened out of her wits and needed someone upon whom she could take out her anger and realized it should not be Bryan. He had saved her life and she had seen the fear in his eyes when he saw that she was in trouble. 

  


  


"Iâ€™m not mad," she took a step closer towards Bryan.

  


  


Bryan wondered if he ought to retreat because she was glaring at him like a woman who had an extremely bad day and needed something to hit in order to make herself better. Since he could not deny that she was right, that separating had been an inordinately bad idea, Bryan supposed he deserved his medicine. In truth, he was so happy to see her alive and well that he would have endured anything. However, instead of throwing a fist in his face which he somewhat deserved, she wrapped her arms abruptly around his neck and pulled him to her in a passionate kiss.

  


  
  
When she kissed him, Bryan could feel it all the way to his toes. At her most fiery, she tasted wonderful and she devoured his lips with the passion of one who was extraordinarily grateful to be alive. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, reveling in the feel of her body against him and equally thankful that she was alive and that he had not lost her before there could be anything between them. 

  


  


"Iâ€™m sorry," he whispered, "I shouldnâ€™t have sent you away."

  


  


"You thought you were doing the right thing," she answered when their lips had parted. 

  


  


"I wonâ€™t make that mistake again," he said sincerely. 

  


  


"Too right," she retorted, unaware that Fred was staring at them both, smiling. 

  


  


Legolas who had been watching the passageway to ensure the Uruks had not followed, raised a brow at the intimacies between Bryan and Tory. The elf went to Aaron and whispered quietly, "did I miss something?"


	13. Interlude: Stolen Moments -NC17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

Triumvirate  
  
INTERLUDE:  
  
A MOMENT STOLEN  
  
  
Authors Note:  
  
At the request of a friend who wanted some Boromir smut for her birthday (and  
who can blame her?) I've added this little interlude to the current story of  
Triumvirate. The nature of the tale allows for this to be taken as either a  
standalone or a further exploration of the past relationship between Tory and  
Boromir. In other words, you can ignore it if you like or take it as the guilty  
pleasure that it is.  


  
  
If she was dreaming, then it was a good dream.  
  
She knew she had lived another life in this age and how she had come to be here  
was just as much a mystery as the everything else she had stumbled into in  
recent days. Ever since meeting Bryan, she was struck with this feeling that she  
had been waiting for him a long time, longer than should be possible. When she  
had learnt that he had once been Boromir of Gondor, something was sparked in  
her, traces perhaps of a memory from another life. When she closed her eyes to  
sleep, these dreams visited Tory past memories with even more potency. However,  
until now they had not been as clear to her as this.  
  
He was here before her, Boromir of Gondor and Tory sensed that what she was  
experiencing was a stolen moment for both of them. Whether or not it truly  
happened this way was something Tory would never know for certain but she wanted  
to share it with him while it lasted. The sands of his life were dwindling even  
though he knew nothing of it and all his hopes; all his dreams for Gondor would  
be another man’s accomplishments. She looked at him and saw this warrior who had  
given so much of himself to responsibility and wanted him to know one moment  
that was just his alone.  
  
"Do you want me, my lord?" She asked plainly, amusing herself by the surprise in  
his eyes.  
  
A moment ago he had looked at her in a way he suspected was the realization that  
she could mean more to him than he ever dreamed any woman could. He did want her  
but having her put it to him so starkly caught him a little off guard. He was a  
man accustomed to being in control of every situation and this one had rather  
taken him by surprise. This was no mere wench to be taken in some seedy inn;  
this was a lady of Anorien, a noblewoman. True, this was the first time he had  
met her but their connection was there nonetheless.  
  
"Are you always so forward?" He returned her question with one of his own.  
  
"Time is short these days," she gazed briefly into the horizon, towards Mordor.  
"The eye of Sauron rests on this city as you have said. In the face of death,  
one can do nothing but live. How we live is as important as how we die. This  
moment is all we might have, who knows what tomorrow may bring."  
  
"You speak as if you are about to ride into battle," he replied, his eyes filled  
with growing admiration. He had never met a woman who spoke so sincerely or for  
that matter so sensibly about things.  
  
"They say there is no difference between love and war," Tory met his gaze with a  
smile, "it is only the arena that changes."  
  
"Once again," he took a step towards her, his eyes moving over form, his body  
responding to the possibility of having her, "you speak wisely about a great  
many things."  
  
Her eyes met his and in a moment of perfect clarity, there was no confusion  
about their feelings for one another. It mattered little that on the other side  
of the wall, a celebration was being carried out in his honor. The only thing of  
any significance to him was the fact that she was here within reach and she had  
given him leave to continue. He was unaccustomed to succumbing to his need with  
a lady as highborn as Tory and so he was in the same uncharted territory as she.  
If he were asked to satiate his needs with a simple tavern wench, Boromir would  
have little difficulty in knowing how to proceed. However, since laying eyes  
upon Tory, Boromir knew that this was no woman to be had and forgotten when he  
rode away the next morning.  
  
He slid his hand around her waist and pulled her to him roughly, pleasantly  
surprised when she did not object to the rough handling. She met his hungry gaze  
with one of similar need, the corner of her full lips crooking into a smile of  
encouragement as well as anticipation. He drew in a breath at the consent given  
and lowered his mouth to hers. However, he held back before he could feel its  
silkiness, remaining poised over her lips so he could tease her a little and see  
just how much of an adventurous spirit she had. The playful dance continued for  
a few seconds, heat rising beneath the skin with each moment of near contact.  
She was bending into him, her body arching enough to grind against him. The  
fabric between them created a delicious friction and finally Boromir could bear  
it no more and captured her mouth in a kiss of intense passion.  
  
Her lips opened beneath him as he began exploring the caverns of her mouth,  
feeling himself grow hard when her hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him  
closer to her. Her soft body molded perfectly to his own as he plundered her,  
his tongue dueling lustily with her own. For her seemingly delicate disposition,  
she matched him with each thrust and parry of this sensuous combat, until a kiss  
had so much power over him he could barely breathe. He was not inexperienced and  
had shared the favors of numerous women in his time but she was fairly driving  
him mad with desire and he wanted nothing but to take her right this moment.  
  
Lust began to consume him and he drove her back into the wall, oblivious to the  
fact that within earshot, a celebration was taking place where he was the guest  
of honor. He was damned if he was going to endure any such occasion when he was  
in throes of what promised to be the most passionate night of his life. Once he  
had her trapped between the wall and his body, he allowed his hands to find the  
shape of her breast and began kneading. A small sound escaped her but he knew it  
was not pain. The soft, round flesh beneath his fingers made him growl under his  
breath. He had not remembered it being so good to touch a woman in this way and  
yearned to feel her bare flesh. Her legs parted slightly, allowing him to push  
against her until he was certain she knew the full extent of his arousal.  
  
His other hand delved beneath the folds of her dress, searching through the  
layers of fabric until his fingertips were pleasured with the smooth feel of a  
firm thigh. The silky softness of it made him groan into her mouth as his hand  
ran up and down its length, finally hooking it over his hip. His hardness  
pressed against her moist center and the despite the barrier of clothing, both  
shuddered at the contact. She was running her fingers through his hair,  
muttering his name, as he tasted her lips, her neck and nibbled softly at her  
ear until her body was so aflame with desire, she hardly cared if anyone found  
them here like this.  
  
Boromir tugged at the sleeve of her dress, pulling it over a creamy shoulder.  
His mouth slid down the curve of her neck, wanting to savor every inch of the  
journey across her skin. The delicate material exposed her arm and freed one  
plump breast to his hungry gaze. He watched in fascination as the rose bud tip  
crinkled against the cold air before a gleam of mischief prompted him to capture  
it in his mouth.  
  
"Oh, my lord," she gasped as he suckled gently at the flesh, his tongue  
caressing the erect tip with ruthless abandon. He tortured her expertly as he  
swirled his tongue around her aroused flesh and felt her melting in his arms.  
Her soft moans had become short gasps of pleasure and hearing them made him so  
hard that it was all he could do to keep from tearing her clothes from her body  
and burying himself deep within her warm depths.  
  
Tory could hardly breathe as she felt his mouth torture her with unbelievable  
pleasure. The rough friction of his beard against the sensitive skin of her  
breast, not to mention his delightful skillful tongue was driving all thoughts  
of propriety from her mind. Indeed the idea that they were doing something so  
forbidden was making her slick with need and she could care less if they were to  
be found rutting like animals, just long as his wonderful mouth did not stop  
what it was doing.  
  
Suddenly he pulled away, raising his head so that he could meet her gaze once  
more. Tory felt her stomach contract in protest at the end to that sweet,  
suckling pleasure but the dark shade of his green eyes told her that he was far  
from done with her yet.  
  
"I think we should retire from this place," he said huskily, his voice so low  
that it made her hair stand on end and sent a fresh surge of wanton lust through  
her. "I want to be inside you, my lady, but not like this, not here. You deserve  
better than to be taken like some wench in the dark. I want you in my bed. Will  
you do me the honor?"  
  
"As if you need to ask," she said abruptly and kissed him hard to confirm her  
answer.  
  
His lips crooked into a wry smile, one that was filled with warm affection  
rather than hungry lust. For an instant, their encounter became more than just a  
meeting of flesh but rather, the promise of something that would last beyond the  
night, that could hold them in its grip forever. She smiled at him as she  
adjusted her dress to a more acceptable state of modesty before Boromir took her  
hand and led her off the balcony. Taking the side exit, he led Tory away from  
the other guests, down the darkened corridors of the White Tower to his suite of  
room. For a moment, Tory thought they were like two naughty children running  
away to indulge in some mischief.  
  
Their arrival at his private chambers went unnoticed. Tory doubted anyone would  
begrudge the Captain of Gondor if he chose to indulge himself in the company of  
a lady the night before his departure, particularly when the journey was long  
and fraught with peril. She stepped into the room, allowing him to close the  
door behind her as she studied the dimly lit room. Soft light from candles  
greeted her eyes as she entered his inner sanctum and a sliver of curiosity  
crossed her mind at this insight into his private self.  
  
She was so busy observing the weapons and books that made up its contents that  
he rather caught her by surprise when he snaked an arm around her waist and  
lowered his lips to her neck from behind. She bent back into his soft, sensuous  
mouth and felt his hands gliding slowly up her sides before cupping both breasts  
in his hands and began caressing them softly. Tory closed her eyes as she felt  
him tease her body with his expert touch, delighting in the sensations coursing  
through her body. It felt like an eternity before he gently eased the dress from  
her body. The silken fabric slid of her shoulders and fell around her legs as if  
she had stepped into a pool of satin. Tory heard Boromir’s breath catch as he  
stared at her nakedness and smiled at his reaction.  
  
"You are so beautiful," he whispered softly as she turned around to face him.  
Tory saw Boromir’s eyes raking over her form with lust and affection. She smiled  
at him and felt that it was time to torture him for awhile. Taking a step  
closer, she began to disrobe him, noting his quickening breath when her hands  
made contact with his skin. As she pulled his tunic from his body, she planted  
soft kisses against his chest and felt him tremble at the pleasure of it.  
  
Tory smiled at the sight of Boromir at her mercy and decided she would like to  
torture him further. A streak of the devil ran through her and she maintained  
her kisses in a downward descent, relishing the sight of his jaw slackening with  
anticipation as she neared his erect manhood. She could see it pressing against  
the fabric of his breeches and knew that he was extremely aroused by the mere  
promise of what she would do to him when she reached her destination. He began  
caressing her hair gently, in slow, languid strokes.  
  
"You do not have to, my lady," he said attempting to be chivalrous because as  
much as he wanted her to do what she intended, she was still a lady and deserved  
to be treated as such.  
  
"I know," she said coyly before laying her palm upon the hard erect flesh and  
drawing from him a sharp intake of breath when she began to caress it. "I want  
to," she answered though Tory was certain that he knew nothing except the feel  
of her hand torturing his cock. Another satisfied feeling ran through her as she  
lowered her lips to him.  
  
Oh Gondor, Boromir thought as he felt her lips drawn him into her mouth.  
  
The warmth heat surrounding his manhood forced a groan of absolute ecstasy from  
his lips even before he knew he had opened his mouth to utter it. Instinctively,  
he thrust his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in her throat and  
thanking all the gods in the world when she accepted him without gagging. There  
was a slight pause as she contended with his length but then she began to suckle  
him mercilessly and he could no longer think anything at all.  
  
"So good," he muttered softly, unaware he was speaking the words as she bobbed  
vigorously up and down his length, her lips contracting so tightly around his  
flesh that he could feel her lips on every inch of his cock. His fingers  
entwined in her glorious red hair until they had fallen into a rhythm which  
confused who was taking charge and who was being pleasured. He heard her utter  
soft sounds of enjoyment as she treated him to this most sensuous of oral  
pleasures and felt his head swim as his control begin to slip.  
  
Forcing himself to open his eyes, Boromir was treated to the erotic feast of her  
lips sliding up and down his manhood as she held him by the root. Her tongue  
would lave the underside of his shaft and culminate her oral torture with  
powerful suction around the tip, He watched her lips glide over his thick shaft,  
culminating on the swollen glans and nearly died at the sight of her tongue  
probing into the slit. Her hand caressed his swollen balls while the other held  
his hip still, ensuring that he could do nothing but endure her mouth and the  
sensations she was bombarding him with.  
  
Very soon, he was thrusting so powerfully into her mouth that he was damn near  
to losing control entirely. For a man who thrived on being in complete command  
of himself and his situation, Boromir knew that he could not let this happen. As  
much as he wanted her to finish him and by Elbereth, he wanted it terribly, he  
wanted this experience to be wonderful for both of them, not just him. This  
woman had touched more than his body by her sudden appearance in his life, she  
had awakened a hidden need to be loved by someone who would be there when the  
warrior’s day was done and only the man remained.  
  
Thus with the same strength of will that had earned him the title of Captain of  
Gondor, Boromir reached for Tory and gently pulled her upright. The loss of  
those wonderful lips against his hard member almost brought a sob of  
disappointment to his lips but he refused to mar the intimacy of their coupling  
with such selfishness. Boromir genuinely cared about her as more than just his  
sexual partner of the moment, she was someone he could come back to.  
  
"Would you share my bed, my lady?" he asked breathlessly, his control barely  
contained after what she had done to arouse him.  
  
"I would share everything with you, my lord," she teased.  
  
He kissed her gently on the mouth following the gift of her redundant consent,  
his hands resting on her hips as he guided her to his bed, his lips teasing her  
with each step. They were both naked and in their retreat to his bed, their  
bodies rubbed against each other in sensuous friction. Each brush of flesh  
against flesh was stoking the fire at the core of them into an inferno neither  
could withstand. By the time they reached the bed, Tory was so ready for him she  
could hardly believe it. She could feel her insides aching with warmth and  
moisture, the dampness between her legs corresponding with the hard ridge of  
flesh pressing against her belly.  
  
They met each other’s gaze with dark eyes as they reached the bed. Boromir  
lowered her against the cool sheets, once again his mouth guiding her there.  
When she finally lay on top of the bedding, his body moved to cover hers. Tory’s  
own breathing had quickened as she caressed the strong muscles of his chest, her  
palms running along his broad shoulders, as he lay poised over her. He kissed  
her palm gently when it was within reach and brandished a smile so devastating  
that it pierced her heart like a knife. Once again, he lowered his head to her  
breasts and began to lavish his delightful skillful tongue.  
  
Tory’s head began to spin as she felt him suckle her nipple past his teeth,  
swirled his tongue around the erect nub. The sensations were next to exquisite  
and she began moaning softly, as her legs parted in order to allow him a more  
comfortable position between them. One of his hands snaked past her stomach  
until his fingers glided over the hair of her mound, poised and ready to touch  
her in that most secret of places. She arched her back languidly as she felt him  
beginning to probe her insides gently. His hands were callused from years of  
handling a sword but his skill in pleasuring her was no less as his fingers  
explored her moist depths  
  
His exploration became manipulation and soon Tory was moaning so loudly, she was  
certain the entire host of the White Tower was aware of what they were doing  
inside this room. Even if they did know, she could hardly care because what he  
was doing to her was beyond belief. He teased and taunted her sensitive folds  
until she had no sense of anything but the delicate strokes of his fingertips.  
However, if she thought Boromir was done torturing her with pleasure, then she  
was about to be wonderfully mistaken.  
  
Boromir slid smoothly between her legs so he could really taste her. Her  
intoxicating scent was heavy in the air and he would be terribly remiss if he  
did not indulge himself but a little. When his mouth made contact with her  
sensitive folds, Tory let out a cry of pure pleasure and dug her nails into the  
sheets beneath them.  
  
His tongue teased her erect center while his beard caressed her outer folds,  
causing her to lose all sense of herself and become slave to his sensuous  
ministrations. She felt his tongue pushing its way into the deepest crevices of  
her body, invading and yet exploring at the same time. Her legs had wrapped  
themselves around his back now and her red hair was a mane tossed from side to  
side as her body transformed into nothing but pleasured nerve endings.  
  
"Boromir," she cried out, "I can’t bear it! Please, please come inside me."  
  
Hearing her desperate plea almost shattered what control he had managed to  
maintain. He stopped what he was doing before he became lost to every thing but  
the plea she had made to take her was more than he could withstand. In all his  
life he had never wanted to be with anyone the way he wanted to be with her.  
Pleasure was swirling around them both, consuming them with its heat until their  
joining became much more than the union of flesh but rather of soul. He slid up  
her body, his cock hard and aching for her, almost as much as her moist depths  
needed to feel him inside. This was their moment and as much as he wanted to  
savor it, to make it special, for now a hard, brutal coupling was what they  
needed.  
  
Tenderness could wait.  
  
Boromir responded to her desperate demand by forcing her arms above her head and  
pinning both of her wrists with one of his hands. The action brought her breasts  
within easy reach of his mouth and he enclosed one pert nipple with his lips and  
began to nibble. Tory moaned at his touch, bucking against the restraint of his  
hands but also feeling her pleasure escalate at this feeling of being helpless  
to his ministrations. She felt the tip of his cock probing the folds of her sex  
and quickly spread her legs wider, inviting into the depths of moist channel.  
  
Boromir’s breath caught when he felt his manhood clenched within an incredible  
sheathe of tight, warm flesh. He released her hands and clenched the sheets as  
he tried to restrain himself. He had to close his eyes or else he would have  
climaxed immediately and for a precious few seconds, he could do nothing but  
revel in the incredible pleasure of her body. He was gasping to accustom himself  
to the contraction of muscles around his cock when realized that he had not even  
begun to move yet. She would kill him with pleasure before the night was out.  
  
Tory spread her legs wider, completely unaware that she had done so because all  
she could feel was him filling her as none had ever done before, caring for  
nothing except how deep inside he wanted to go. She whimpered, allowing the  
sinful sensations moving through her body to awaken every nerve inside of her,  
until all she could think of was this wanton need to have him pound into her  
until she screamed.  
  
Boromir wanted to take her slowly, to allow her to become accustomed to him  
being inside of her. He was by no means a thoughtless lover and for all her  
spirit, she was still very much a lady and deserved being treated as such.  
However, when he felt her nails dig into his rear, pulling him deeper into her  
body until he was buried to the hilt, his restraint snapped completely and  
utterly. Uttering a low growl, he slammed into her hard and felt her arc beneath  
him from either pleasure or pain. It was difficult to say. However, he had his  
answer when she pulled him harder against her, giving him leave to pound her  
into submission if need be.  
  
Boromir found himself closing his eyes and gritting his teeth to brace himself  
as he felt shock waves of pleasure reverberate throughout his body the further  
he slid into her tight depths. Warm suction coaxed him in with promises of  
agonizing sensation when both her legs wrapped around his waist. His hand were  
fisted in the sheets to keep himself from crying out. However, the sheer  
intensity of sensation strangling his hardened cock was beyond belief as her  
nails raking across his flesh in reaction. The pain of it engendered an equally  
beatific pleasure in every inch of the journey to her sweet center.  
  
"My lady," he managed to speak, somehow. "You have undone me," his voice escaped  
him a hoarse whisper.  
  
She could not answer because each stroke tore the sense from Tory’s world,  
forced the breath from her body, until her entire soul was becoming suffused  
with one thought and one thought only -- what he was doing to her. Tory closed  
her eyes and in the rainbow of color she saw before her, heard distantly her own  
voice crying for him not to stop. She could not remember when it had ever been  
so good, when her entire soul was driven to this state of pure animal lust,  
where the thoughts of her every day existence had given away so completely for  
this man and her willingness to do anything for him.  
  
If Tory was completely lost, then Boromir was no better. He began riding her  
hard; penetrating her with such relentless rhythm that very soon he could not  
think at all. He could hardly believe he had found this unexpected jewel and  
grieved that tomorrow he would be forced to leave her. However, Boromir knew he  
would leave with his heart utterly in her keeping. He had not felt this  
pleasured or happy for such a long time and he was going to revel in it for as  
long as it lasted. The taut muscles of his body were covered in a fine sheen of  
sweat but he barely noticed. His awareness was centered on Tory’s nubile flesh  
stroking him in readiness of one of the most intense releases he would ever  
know.  
  
A pressure of sensation began to fill his cock, coursing blood through his veins  
and drowning out all other awareness except the swell of extreme pleasure that  
becoming so intense that nothing else seemed to matter. Pleasure. Sensation.  
Ecstasy. It crowded in on him like a loud noise, until his body was so gripped  
in its thrall he knew nothing else. The only thing he could do with any  
semblance of consciousness was to continue his brutal strokes even harder. His  
fingers dug into her shapely hips as he impaled her with relentless rhythm until  
her head was thrown back and she was crying out his name like an animal howling  
at the moon.  
  
Tory was gripped with a potent mixture of unbelievable lust and deep abiding  
love for this man, who had worshipped her body and pleasured her like none had  
ever done before. Her body tensed and her back arched as she felt her climax  
finally overcoming her. She knew she was wantonly calling out his name in  
complete abandon, pleading at him to go faster and harder. Boromir was happy to  
oblige and continued his penetrating thrusts until she was pushed over the brink  
in all its entirely.  
  
"Boromir!" She cried when the back of stamina finally shattered and her entire  
being plummeted from the lofty heights he had lifted her. Her nails raked across  
his back as she felt it sweeping over her, shrinking her world into the  
singularity of sweet release. Her insides contracted around him as she tumbled  
over the edge to completion, a final gift to his masterful assault upon her  
senses. Boromir felt the breathe driven from his body as her climax strangled  
his cock with the perfect sensation of clenching muscles until he too was  
spiraling towards his own release.  
  
"Sweet Elbereth!" Boromir groaned when he felt his seed spurt into her body.  
This release had stripped him bare and he was completely lost to the rapture of  
it. His warmth surged deep into her crevices leaving him completely drained in  
body and spirit. However, he continued thrusting because his mind was not ready  
to let go of this incredible experience he had shared with her. When he finally  
was still, Boromir collapsed on top of Tory, feeling his sweat mingling with her  
own as they both lay on his bed, panting with exhaustion and completely spent.  
  
He rolled off her body and lay next her, marveling at the encounter, marveling  
that he had found her. Boromir leaned towards Tory until they were spooned  
together, relishing the scent of their lovemaking in the air and the heavenly  
aroma of her hair in his lungs; He did not want to know another day when she was  
not in his bed like this.  
  
"I leave for Rivendell tomorrow," he said stroking his lips against the softness  
of her hair. "I think I will be gone for many months, will you wait for me?"  
  
Tory did not turn around to face him, if she did, he would have seen the tears  
in her eyes. This moment was all they had; it was all they would ever have. He  
was not coming back from Rivendell. His destiny lay in Parth Galen where the  
tale of the great Captain of Gondor would forever be connected to the place  
where he had fallen. However, he knew none of this and to him, tomorrow was  
filled with hope while for her, it would always be filled with regret.  
  
"Yes," she said softly, "I will wait for you."  
  
If this was a dream, then it was a good dream and who was she to mar it with the  
truth?  
  
THE END  
  



	14. Chapter Twelve:  Shifting Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

The night was cold but when Major Andrei Nikolaevich woke up in the middle of it, his sheets were clinging to his body. Beyond the walls of his assigned quarters, the wind was blowing a gale and he remembered vaguely hearing a weather reported that cited the temperature being somewhere in the vicinity of –25 degrees Celsius. He hardly noticed it as he sat there on his mattress, trying to grasp at the dream diminishing quickly in his memory. Turning his gaze at the old clock his father had given him years before, Andrei could hear every stroke of time that passed through the old mechanism. 

  


  


It was little after three o'clock and he could not sleep. Unfortunately, this was not an unusual state of affairs for him of late. His sleep for the past week had been uncomfortable to say the least and every morning when he awoke, he felt as if he had not slept at all. He moved through the days restlessly, his body drained and his skin feeling sallow. Even the officers under his command had been unable to ignore the dark circles under his eyes or the irritability he never had difficulty concealing until now. Andrei knew that part of it had to do with his growing dissatisfaction with the posting and his exile here because those fools in Moscow thought taking a hard line against the West was the same as being a communist.

  


  


He had been a member of the party during its existence. He was career military, what else could he be? It was expected of any officer seeking a high-ranking position in the military. Having the party's backing meant being able to excel without being in the eye of the political office who kept watch over everyone. Despite his political affiliations, he had always considered himself a soldier first, a party member second. It was not easy to walk the line between both, to remain poise upon a knife’s edge to ensure that he would never be perceived as a threat to either side. 

  


  


When the communist regime came to an end, he thought that he could at last breathe a sigh of relief, thinking he was free of this burden. Unfortunately, the new order it seemed had deemed him a communist nonetheless because he did not think that bowing to western excesses was the best thing for the fledgling nation. What did they know anyway? He asked himself as he sat motionless on his bed, allowing these dark thoughts to race freely through his mind, allowing them to gain momentum with the speed of a locomotive. Why should he rein in his troubled thoughts when no one could hear them or know of their existence?

  


  


He had every right to think that Russia had lost her way because he was living proof of its deconstruction. He remembered how it was when the country was run by ruthless men with great ambition and how that had made the country great - not the pale shadow of itself it had become since the new regime came into being. They thought they could shunt him aside in this wilderness, deluding themselves with the belief that he was powerless to affect their decadence from this forgotten edge of the world. They were fools. He had power, a great deal of it as a matter of fact, and it was they who had put it in his hands. 

  


  


With what he had access to, he could show them all what real power was. Power. Ambition. Patriotism. In one bold stroke, he could show them how great Russia could truly be. All the motherland needed was someone strong enough to make the sacrifice. Someone who would not be afraid to spill blood, the way Stalin had spilled blood to make Russia great. Oh the people now called him a mass-murderer and even his contemporaries walked in fear of being the next to step under the falling blade. However, they could not deny feeling a begrudging respect for the man because he had been unafraid to stain his hands and taken Russia from the wooden yoke to the atom bomb in a space of twenty-five years.

  


  


It swept over him like a Muse’s whisper, the sudden realization that _he_ was a man strong and brave enough to take the final step, the step so many others like him had viewed with such foreboding. Once, even he was filled with doubts but when the music of understanding filled his ears, they evaporated because he knew something they did not. To save the land, one had to make her people weep for it, to lament for all it had and could have been. Tears had to come from seeing it in utter ruin to love it as they had never loved before. A man once said that one had to be cruel to be kind and he knew how to be very cruel indeed. 

  


  


Andrei stared at his shaking hands, all hint of doubt gone forever from his thoughts. His epiphany left him trembling like a leaf but he noticed nothing.

  


  


Not even the ring burning on his finger.

  


  


**************

  


  


In the catacombs beneath David Saeran’s castle, Gandalf could feel the ominous clouds of darkness beginning to taint the air. Something shifted, like an object nudged unexpectedly in the dark. For a blind man, it threw everything into chaos for the lay of the room so carefully memorized. For a man could see, it changed the view of things entirely. Great storms often announced themselves with the coming of a gentle breeze and in this windless darkness that he and his companions were presently traversing, Gandalf could feel it in the wind.

  


  


The time he thought they had was no more. Sauron’s human personality had changed the shape of the game and now it was not merely about reaching, it was reaching him before he destroyed the walls. Days had become hours and Gandalf could feel the impending doom fray the edges of his consciousness. In Valinor, his masters’ could feel it as well. They had wanted the humans to deal with this situation but were now starting to question whether or not they were not partially culpable for what was happening.

  


  


When he had set out here from Valinor with Aaron and Eve in tow, Gandalf had known that he was crossing the sea to save more than just men from utter annihilation. For more than a hundred thousand years, the Valar had remained on their island in their dimensional pocket away from the rest of Ea, nurturing their elven charges. Man had always been Illuvutar’s project and so it was perfectly acceptable that they interfered not in the lives of men. Where man went upon his death had been a mystery the Valar did not understand until Aaron Stone returned with Legolas Greenleaf and answered the age-old question that men did have a sort of immortality even if he lived relatively short lives. 

  


  


However, Melkor’s return to the world and the necessity of the Valar’s direct involvement in dealing with him had awakened a disturbing thought in the hearts of all the deities, in particular Manwe. For years, the lord of the Valar had listened to Olorin about the tales of men, about their great spirit and courage, all of which was compressed into a lifespan no longer than the flicker of a candle. He wondered that perhaps the Valar had been remiss in their dealings with man. Man had survived and thrived in his environment but there was inherent loneliness in them that made their great achievements hollow. Manwe began to wonder whether it was possible to keep a protective eye upon man without actually interfering in Iluvutar’s plans.

  


  


Aaron’s arrival in Valinor had proved that man had a place in the Undying Lands even if it was not to lead an immortal life. The Valar enjoyed watching the humans, though Gandalf had never told Aaron any of this and they began to realize that the race of man had also evolved and was constantly evolving while the elves remained the same, like statues that never change. 

  


The elves themselves had begun to suspect that they were growing stagnant, though most were too proud to admit it. There was such a thing as a living death and the elves were beginning to feel as if they were trapped in amber, frozen forever at one place in time while enviously, they saw through Aaron’s eyes, man evolving and daring to reach for the heavens even if he knew he would never reach it before the end of his lifetime but it was the trying that made it so worthwhile. 

  


  


The elves no longer strove to accomplish anything and that concerned Manwe as much as man’s need for starlight.

  


  


Change was coming that neither the humans or the elves in Gandalf’s company but none of that would ever come to pass if Sauron succeeded in wiping men from the face of the Earth. The isolation that Manwe was reconsidering for the elves of Valinor would be forever if Sauron breathed the world of men in flame and drove to extinction those who did not die in the burning. It appeared that for this new ‘Fellowship’ time had run out.

  


  


The company had met each other and had taken a respite in one of the many caverns in the place. It was decided that it was sensible to take an alternate route from their main path to avoid, momentarily, the awakening Uruks until some injuries were tended to. They had been traveling for hours and needed to rest if they were to face the enemy. Gandalf had exerted some of his power to keep their presence from their pursuers a secret for some hours so that his companions could rest and have their wounds redressed. Nevertheless, Legolas and Haldir kept watch because they could sense the danger looming, even if the veil of Gandalf’s powers separated it. 

  


  


After a few hours of sleep, the company prepared to resume their journey once more because time was of the essence. Unfortunately until this moment, they were not aware of just how little of it they truly had.

  


  


"We have a matter of hours," Gandalf announced.

  


  


The declaration captured the attention of everyone present, even Aaron who was busily applying fresh bandages to the wound left by the Uruk’s upon Tory’s shoulder.

  


  


"What do you mean?" Bryan looked up from where he was surreptitiously glancing in Tory’s direction whilst pretending to pay an inordinate amount of attention to his gun. Despite himself, his self-image was still too proud to admit that he wanted to stay by her side like a concerned boyfriend. Even the sound of the word inside his mind made him wince with indignity.

  


  


"Saeran has brought forward his plan," Gandalf answered automatically in the same calm tone, even though all eyes were fixed firmly on him now. "He does not intend to risk us endangering it so he is moving his pawns into place."

  


  


"How long?" Aaron demanded ask.

  


  


"Hours," Gandalf repeated himself, "I cannot be more certain than that."

  


  


"Oh, God," Tory suddenly exclaimed, her lips turning into an ‘o’ of horror. With everything that had happened since she rescued Fred from that terrible cell, it had completely slipped her mind. "How could I have forgotten? With everything that was going on, I forgot! How could I do that?"

  


  


"Hey, take it easy," Aaron said quickly, wishing her to hold still while he was trying to apply dressing to her wound. "What is it you forgot?"

  


  


"When I was in the car," Tory said thinking of those terrible hours trapped inside the boot of the Nine’s vehicle, waiting for them to arrive at their destination, listening to them speak of what Saeran had intended. "I heard them talking, the Nine."

  


  


"You heard the Nine speak in secret?" Legolas said with a small measure of admiration for this woman who had somehow managed to sneak past the Nine with her skin still intact. 

  


  


"What did they say, luv?" Bryan asked, starting to get a very bad feeling if the anxiety in her eyes was any indication.

  


  


"I couldn’t understand a great deal of it," Tory explained, shuddering a little as she remembered the chilling sound of their voices, "but what I did hear frightened me silly."

  


  


"You should have been here with the spiders," Eve muttered under her breath, understanding extreme fear very well lately.

  


  


"Spiders?" Tory stared at Eve, cringing visibly, "what kind of spiders?"

  


  


"Really _big_ spiders," Eve returned, widening her arms to show Tory the scale. "I mean _big_ as in the size of a cow…"

  


  


"Eve!" Aaron interrupted. "Honey, you think we could have this conversation a little later?"

  


  


Eve looked at Aaron sheepishly and apologized, "Sorry."

  


  


"Now, you were saying?" Gandalf asked Tory now that Aaron had subtly brought them back to the subject on hand.

  


  


"The wraith talked about the humans and rings they were wearing," Tory continued, brushing thoughts of large arachnids to the back of her mind for now. "He says that they were in three corners of the globe, all with access to nuclear missiles and that, through the rings, his master was influencing them to launch."

  


  


"Jesus," Aaron muttered softly.

  


  


"Missiles?" Haldir looked at the humans with question. "What are missiles?"

  


  


"They’re explosive devices," Bryan tried to explain but he honestly did not have the words to make a complete novice understand what a nuclear missile was. 

  


  
  
"Are they speaking of what was used to breach the walls at Helm’s Deep?" Legolas asked Gandalf, remembering how the black powder of Saruman had breached the impenetrable fortress Hornburg. It was the most destructive power they had ever witnessed and yet Legolas suspected it paled in comparison to what these humans had devised. 

  


  
  
"Yes," Gandalf nodded somberly. "Now imagine that explosion being able to encompass an entire city in single instant."

  


  


"You made such a weapon?" Haldir’s disgust was unconcealed. 

  


  
  
The humans looked decidedly uncomfortable and Haldir guessed immediately why. "You have made more than one."

  


  


"We have hundreds of them," Bryan said guiltily, never more ashamed at being human than at that moment when he was required to justify their reasons for having weapons of mass destruction. "It was used twice and that was enough to frighten us into never using it since. It is a weapon of last resort and these days, there are safer weapons with less damning results but there is no easy way to dispose of it so the weapons remain where they are, unused in silos, collecting dust."

  


  


"Until one day a dark lord comes along who knows the right buttons to push and there you have it, instant thermonuclear Armageddon, no waiting required," Eve said sourly.

  


  


"Three corners of the globe," Aaron mused out loud. "You don’t think he means the superpowers do you?" He stared at Bryan.

  


  


Bryan stiffened at the thought mostly because it was a very astute observation indeed. In fact, the more it mulled around in his head, the more it seemed to make sense. After all, if Saeran wanted to initiate complete nuclear annihilation, who would have the most nuclear missiles to facilitate such a plan? Between the three of them, the superpowers had enough warheads to destroy the world a dozen times over. 

  


  


"It would have to be," he nodded, "China, Russia and America have silos everywhere, he’d only have to be influence the right man in any of these installations and he’d have his war."

  


  


"Can’t we warn them?" Tory asked. "I mean surely they would want to know if three of their personnel have gone rogue."

  


  


"With the only proof we have being the fact that we know Saeran is an ancient dark lord who can influence the mind with magic rings, it’s not bloody likely," Bryan retorted. "The men who are given access to these weapons have come under the tightest scrutiny. Half yearly psychological evaluations, period banking audits, personal affiliations, nothing gets missed. If we accuse these men of being suspect, we have to provide incontrovertible proof."

  


  


"Unfortunately, it will be too late by then," Eve frowned. 

  


  


"We have no choice but to reach him," Gandalf stated. "That is our only course."

  


  


"But we cannot kill him," Haldir reminded. "Destroy the body and he will still exist. Disembodied perhaps but still retaining enough power to ensure that his plans are carried out."

  


  


"And he would do so," Legolas said bitterly, "out of sheer spite."

  


  


"We can’t kill him," Aaron mused and left the others to their discussion while he considered the problem in his head. They could not kill Saeran. The body was inconsequential but the mind, the mind was powerful indeed. Despite Gandalf’s desire to make haste to reach Saeran, Aaron could sense some hesitation in the Istar’s manner. He had not spoken of it but Aaron knew his patients well, even ones who were Maiar. There was doubt in Gandalf’s heart, a tiny kernel of it amidst an almost awe inspiring courage but it was there nonetheless.

  


  
  
Gandalf was not certain he could match Saeran if it came down to a fight between them.

  


  


And in such a fight, Gandalf could not afford to lose or they would all pay the price for his failure. They could not afford to gamble on Gandalf coming through this as the victor, not when the stakes were so high. They had to think of another way. Aaron wondered if there was any point to this when the situation was so untenable? They could not kill the demon without unleashing him upon the world and they could not let him live for the very same reason, all because his mind would still remain intact if they did either. If it were only possible to contain it somehow…

  


  


The thought drifted away from its random beginnings and left deeper threads in Aaron’s mind with each second it gained momentum. Suddenly, what seemed like musings began to take shape and Aaron was rather startled to realize that he had something of a plan. He turned around and saw the others discussing the situation when he caught Bryan’s gaze. Wanting to speak to the MI6 agent alone, Aaron gestured at him wordlessly to join him in a private conversation. Bryan stepped away from the others inconspicuously and joined the doctor who had drifted to the other side of the cavern, under the guise of looking over their supplies. 

  


  


"Something on your mind?" Bryan asked quietly when he reached Aaron.

  


  


"I think I know how to stop Saeran," Aaron stated. 

  


  


Bryan stared at him in surprise and wondered at the need for secrecy from the others. The elves would probably hear them anyway but Bryan suspected what Aaron needed to discuss with him would make little sense to them unless he explained it. 

  


  


"Go on," he urged the doctor to continue.

  


  


Aaron revealed his plan to Bryan who took the idea with some measure shock, mostly because he did not think Aaron was capable of such ruthlessness but could not deny that it was a good plan, albeit a rather risky one particularly to himself. The execution of it would fall almost entirely on Bryan’s shoulders and while Bryan was not afraid to make the attempt, he hoped Aaron was absolutely certain that this would work. 

  


  


"What do you think?" Aaron asked after it was all said and done. "Can you do it?"

  


  


"I can do it," Bryan replied without hesitation. If nothing else, he knew that much for certain.

  


  


"The timing has to be exact," Aaron insisted. "Any more than eight to ten minutes and the threshold will be crossed. If that happens, it will all hit the fan."

  


  


"It’s already hit the fan," Bryan retorted. "But I can manage the timing. It will like catching a tiger by the tail but I can pull it off."

  


  


"We’ll keep him busy as much as we can," Aaron added, "and if it becomes too much for you…"

  


  


"I’ll still hang on because we don’t stop him, it won’t matter anyway whether it’s too much for me because we’ll all be dead."

  


  


"Are you always so cheerfully optimistic?" Aaron looked at him.

  


  


"It’s sodding better than walking around expecting you’re going to live when you’re up to your neck in shi…."

  


  


"Okay," Aaron cut him off before he could finish that statement, "I get the point. You know I finally understand it when Tory says that you can take the boy out of Yorkshire but not the Yorkshire out of the boy."

  


  


"Bugger off," Bryan retorted.

  


  


***********

  


  


Aaron’s plan once revealed to the others engendered a mixed reaction. Haldir did not quite understand the full extent of it but was satisfied that its execution would render Saeran harmless. Legolas who had seen the effects before, knew that what Aaron intended could conceivably work. Gandalf regarded the whole thing with reluctance, mostly because what Bryan needed to do was extremely dangerous and it was not something the Istar would have the human attempt. Unfortunately, Aaron was right. This was the only way. Eve knew Bryan was capable of accomplishing it while Tory and Fred were worried for his life. Still, it was the only means of ending the dark lord’s reign in the modern world as well as disconnecting him to the men who were his instruments of destruction.

  


  


They resumed their journey towards the heart of Saeran’s mansion which they now knew was within reach because of Tory and Fred’s experiences. Gandalf was confident he could lead them to the mansion without having to traverse the cavern where Tory and Fred had encountered the emerging Uruks. Bryan grateful because he had no wish to have Fred traverse such lethal ground again. In truth, he wished the child could be sent away but he had done that once before and it had almost resulted in getting both her and Tory killed. As much as he hated conceding the point, Bryan knew that the safest place she could be right now, was next to him.

  


  


The network of tunnels beneath Saeran’s mansion were not all natural formations, some appeared excavated with drilling and mining equipment. When Gandalf lead them down a tunnel that bore all the marks of a man made construct, Aaron was certain that they would be lead to the Saeran’s domain. He suspected that this maze was not merely to hide whatever creatures he had lurking in the darkness here but also as a means of confusing an enemy should they attempt what breach Saeran’s fortress.

  


  


Legolas and Haldir detected it first as only elves could when something terrible was approaching them. 

  


  


Their heightened awareness sensed it like a cloud bringing the shade after a bright and sunny day. Its arrival was silent but impossible to ignore. The Nine produced their own kind of aura, unlike any other being, dead or alive in the world. As creatures that existed with one foot in the realm of shadow, they had the distinction of exuding a presence that could not be mimicked or hidden. Legolas had sensed them for quite some time now but the search through the labyrinthine caverns and Gandalf’s own powers had kept them at bay. Now that they were on the move, there was no stopping the confrontation. 

  


  


The Nine were coming. 

  


  


Ironically enough, it made sense that they should be intercepted here. The cavern or rather the chamber, since Legolas was certain that it was not a natural formation, was wide. Evidence of the mining that must have undertaken in order to clear the space was apparent in the boulders and piles of dirt scattered about. A distinct smell of ash hung in the air and Legolas suspected the coal ore that was once mined here was the source of it. The cavern tapered at the other end, emptying into a darkness he could not see past. It disturbed him because it seemed protected by something he could not discern, like a wall he could not see past.

  


  


"Gandalf," Legolas called to the wizard quietly, "what lies beyond that?"

  


  


Gandalf’s expression hardened, "I am uncertain," the wizard confessed. "When I first took the road here, I sensed no danger from it but now as we approach, it feels as if there is a veil before my eyes, not unlike the veil I descended over the Nine when we sought rest."

  


  


"We cannot tell if the way is safe," Haldir got to the point immediately. 

  


  


"We cannot go back the way we came," Gandalf pointed out. He had led them here because there was nowhere else to go. It was this way into Saeran’s domain or not all.

  


  


"What’s going on?" Aaron asked. 

  


  


"I cannot sense what is at the end of this passage," Legolas explained, "neither can Gandalf."

  


  


"Why not?" Bryan interjected quickly disliking this pause because they had no time for it. "You’ve been able to lead us this far. What’s changed?"

  


  


"I think it is Sauron’s sorcery at work," Gandalf explains. "He is hiding what lies beyond this cavern. In fact I think this chamber we are in was fashioned to lead us into the next."

  


  


"It could be a way out," Eve suggested, remembering how being in John Malcolm’s Monolith had unnerved her and wondered if Gandalf and the elves were experiencing a similar version of it.

  


  


"It could be," Aaron agreed, "but it might not either."

  


  


Suddenly, Legolas stiffened and Aaron saw a shadow fall over the elf’s blue eyes. Haldir reacted in almost the same way while Gandalf’s expression suddenly became stone. 

  


  


"We need to prepare ourselves," he announced, "I feel their approach."

  


  


"The Nine?" Aaron looked at him for confirmation.

  


  


The elf nodded somberly.

  


  


Fred shuddered visibly, shrinking somewhat against Tory as the announcement was made. The barrister slid her arm protectively around the little girl as everyone around them prepared for a fight. Bryan came to them, wanting to ensure their safety before the fighting began. There was every reason to believe that the Nine would not be alone since the creatures had help when they were ambushed at Tory’s house. 

  


  


"Give me a gun," Tory demanded as Bryan ushered her to a collection of large stones, no doubt a relic of the blasting that must have been undertaken when Saeran was expanding the network of tunnels beneath his domicile.

  


  


Bryan handed her Eve’s police issue 38’ which was in the canvas bag he had been carrying for most of their trek in the darkness without question. The lady herself preferred her semi-automatic Beretta, which was a great deal more serviceable than the revolver with its six bullets. 

  


  


"Do you know how to use a gun?" He asked her uncertainly as she took the thing in her hand and examined it.

  


  


"No," she shook her head, "just make it work so that I can shoot those bastards if they come anywhere near us," she said tautly.

  


  


Bryan did not like the idea of Tory handling any kind of weapon without knowing how to use it and tried to give her a quick lesson, particularly in what a ‘safety’ was. However, time was short and the hope that she would not have to use the weapon was a futile one because the Nine were coming and unless they took the path that was Gandalf and Legolas viewed with such caution. Their present location was hardly the place for a firefight and a confrontation with the Nine here would only mean further delay to their mission to reach Saeran. With what they were facing if Saeran was not stopped, the choice became remarkably easy.

  


  


"We should take our chances that way," Bryan suggested gazing at the darkness that put the elves and the wizard so ill at ease.

  


  


"Are you sure?" Aaron met his gaze; having in the last few minutes wrestled with the same question and had come more or less to the same conclusion. He was glad he was not the only one. 

  


  


"Yeah,’ Bryan nodded. "The Nine weren’t alone when they came after us in London and I doubt they’ll be alone now. If we stay, we could be outnumbered and whether or not our weapons are elven blessed, I prefer better odds."

  


  


"He’s right," Eve agreed meeting Gandalf’s eyes, "Saeran’s best bet right now is to delay us as long as he can. He probably knows that we’re heading straight for him. It’s the only reason I can see why he’s suddenly brought forward his plans. He’s not taking the chance we might get to him. So I say let’s not play into his hands by keeping us here. Maybe there’s something worse down that way but something worse may be exactly what he’s using to guard the _entrance_ into his mansion."

  


  


"Worse is exactly what I fear," Gandalf remarked. "There are many nameless things in this world, some who are more terrible than anything you can possibly imagine. Unfortunately, as much as I loathe having any of you confront such evil, our time grows short and we must indeed keep moving. I sensed a way out of this darkness before we arrived here, I still believe I am right but if we are to escape, we must first face whatever it is that Sauron has lying in wait for us."

  


  
  
"Alright," Bryan looked at his companions now that the decision was made, "let’s get to it then."

  


  


************

  


  


How could she do this to him?

  


  


He sat in his car after leaving Elizabeth’s, tears running down his face as he remembered in terrible detail everything that he had heard when he stood outside her bedroom door, after arriving unexpectedly with roses and wine, hoping to give her a romantic surprise. He was the only one who was surprised unfortunately because it appeared Elizabeth had company. Elizabeth had furnished him with keys to her apartment some months ago and Walter had been coming and going at his own discretion. In truth, it was as if they were already married because their routine together had become so comfortable. It had pleased him to no end thinking that they would not have to suffer all the awkwardness of cohabitation once the wedding was over. 

  


  


Today he had entered the apartment and found her in the bedroom, in deep conversation with someone who remained anonymous through the telephone. He had opened his mouth to announce himself when suddenly, this English teacher from North Dakota, began to speak in Chinese. Walter, who had spent some years in overseas assignments in the Orient, was fluent enough in the language, which in this case was perfect Mandarin, to understand everything she was saying. He listened with growing horror and despair, as the words impacted upon his psyche like blows from a hammer.

  


  
__

"Yes, it is safe to talk."

  


  
__

"No, I still haven’t got access to the information at the base."

  


  
__

"He will trust me after the wedding."

  


  
__

"I am no more happier by this than the People’s Army. I don’t care how much I’m being paid, you don’t have to sleep with him."

  


  


He listened in stunned silence and drifted out of the apartment without giving away his presence. He reached the car across the street without being aware of anything but this growing black pit of pain that was widening inside his heart. As a man in his position, he was aware that enemy agents could attempt to infiltrate his live. It was the nature of the arm’s race, even if its prominence had slipped from notice in recent years and most of the general public believed that there was no longer any competition between the superpowers. However, Green had thought himself able of spot an imposter or at the very least, be expert enough to notice a plant in his life. 

  


  


How could she do this to him? Didn’t she know he loved her? Was everything she had said to him, about the lives they would share together, the children they would have, was it all a lie? He knew the answer to that even as his ravaged heart brayed the question. Of course it was, his inner voice said cynically. She a Chinese agent, bought and paid for to be whore to you so that you would give her access to everything at the base. Think of it, a few months more and she would have been his wife, she could come and go as she pleased, especially since she had convinced him that base housing was the best way to go. He had thought her sensible, in truth she was playing him. 

  


  


The Chinese, he snorted disgustingly. They haven’t changed since Nam`. Always lurking in the background, giving aid and support to the Cong even though they had no claim to the country. Providing the enemy with arms, trying to keep their names out of it, lacking the decency to come out and voice their opposition, unlike the Russians. He hated them. He hated them and their ways. He hated them for using him and for making him love Elizabeth and most of all he hated the disgust in her voice when she said she was the _one_ who was sleeping with him. 

  


  


He wished them dead. All of them. They shouldn’t be able to do this to people. Shouldn’t be able to tear out a man’s heart for the sake of information. They had no right. People like that had no right to anything, no right to breathe the air as everyone else. He wanted to hurt them, wanted to make them know this pain and this shame. He wanted Elizabeth to burn in agony for what she did to him even though killing was too good for her. 

  


  


Killing _was_ too good for her. 

  


  


She needed to know that she could not play with people’s emotions, that there were consequences for her actions, no matter who her masters were. Suddenly it hit him that he had the perfect way to show Elizabeth what she had done to him, a way to show the world, not just the fucking Chinese but _everyone_. 

  


  


He stared at the gold ring on his finger, the one she had given to him as an engagement present, feeling it burn into his skin, a mockery to all that she had professed to feel for him and knew exactly how he would make her pay. Those Chinese wanted to know about American missiles? He would give them a closer look than they possible imagined.

  


  


With love, from Elizabeth

  


  


***********

  


  


 

  


The nameless thing that Gandalf spoke of stirred languidly in the dark. 

  


  
  
It awoke to feed occasionally, when it sensed life’s heart beating within its hearing. Its blood stilled by hibernation would sense the pulsing beat of another and used it as the impetus to emerge from its slumber. It did not know how much time had passed. It would not have cared even if it was capable of measuring it in any way it could find comprehensible. All it knew of time was that it had always been and would continue to be. Its passing was marked by the feeding and for the space of its life, it had fed upon many. There had been a time when the feeding was good, when the dark was everywhere. In those days, it became dizzy with the taste of fresh kill. 

  


  


Then the sun had shone for the first time and it was driven to escape the burning rays of light that sizzled the skin and sent it deep into the earth. There it had remained, shrouding itself on a cloak of darkness no force could penetrate, feeding on those who had stumbled in to its web of darkness,. Scrounging a meager existence and always cursed with this intense hunger because the new world belonged to the children of the sun and they had no desire for the shadows. It remained confined to the underworld, seeking sustenance where it could find it, until desperation had driven it to the evil in this place. In these caverns, it had found good feeding because someone above knew of its existence. 

  


  


Someone who ensured that there would always be food waiting. 

  


  


************

  


  


The cavern was pitch black with a darkness so overwhelming it appeared that they were walking in painting where the canvas was black. Only Gandalf’s staff and the electric torches provided any light and the illumination it cast looked as it were cutting through something thick and impenetrable. Ahead of them, they could see little beyond the radiation of light and the boundaries of this cavern remained elusive. They knew it was vast because their voices echoed throughout the chamber as if they were speaking from the bottom of a well.

  


  


"There is a fell stench about this place," Legolas remarked. 

  


  


"No kidding," Eve agreed without needing elven senses. The deep sense of foreboding that the elves were surely feeling was impacting upon her as well. 

  


  
  
"I can see nothing," Haldir replied as they moved through the darkness, their eyes clinging to the light that illuminated their path. The darkness felt almost tangible, like a physical presence as potent as air or water against the skin. It was not simply that the light was not bright enough but rather that it seemed to swallow the light. The torches were barely able to keep the black at bay and even the glow from Gandalf’s staff was having difficult radiating beyond the immediate vicinity.

  


  


"None of us can," Aaron remarked, trying not to get spooked but the truth was, he was feeling his fear escalate. Something about this felt very, very bad and he was starting to wonder whether or not they ought to have taken their chances with the Nine.

  


  


"Everyone stay close together," Bryan warned. "Tory, Fred, stay close to Gandalf."

  


  


"You be mad if you think either of us would go wandering about in this," Tory retorted, instinctively clutching Fred’s hand a little tighter.

  


  


"Speak in whispers," Gandalf ordered suddenly. "We are not alone and I pray we can leave this place before we awaken what lives here."

  


  


"What lives here?" Bryan’s hissed back.

  


  


Gandalf did not answer. The Istar was feeling the same tightness across the chest that he felt when facing the Balrog of Moria. True, the beast was dangerous indeed but Gandalf was sensing that whatever lived here was ancient. It was ancient when the first Balrog emerged from Angband. This was a denizen of the past before the awakening of the elves at the Mere of Cuivienen. No doubt, in its time it would have fed upon many of the Eldar and like Ungoliant was capable of eating the light in order to snare its prey. 

  


  


Legolas’ eyes were wide open, forcing his superior elven eyesight to penetrate the darkness to know with what manner of life they were sharing the same air. Unfortunately, his eyes could not pierce the black before him. Suddenly, he felt something like a small breeze blow across his face, a hint of cool against the skin followed by the hot breath of something fetid and rotten, something very big. His heart clenched in his chest and he raised his bow to shoot but there was nothing to attack.

  


  


"Something exhaled it breath upon me," Legolas announced with a taut voice.

  


  


"What do you mean?" Eve demanded, "where?" The anxiety in her voice was growing.

  


  


A sound was heard in the darkness, something scraping against the ground, its bulk pulling across the dirt with a low, rumble that sent a shiver of fear through everyone. Aaron remembered the watcher beneath John Malcolm’s building and wondered if this was the same kind of creature. 

  


  


"It is a watcher?" Aaron asked.

  


  


"What’s a watcher?" Bryan immediately returned.

  


  


"Big, tentacles, lots and lots of teeth," Aaron gave him the more concise description possible. 

  


  
  
"Bloody marvelous," came Bryan’s muttered response.

  


  


The sound repeated itself, until eight sets of eyes were searching through the darkness for it. Their weapons were drawn but there was nothing to shoot at, nothing they could see in the black wall of night surrounding them. 

  


  


A great swoosh of air was heard and there was a cry of pain. Legolas’ voice sailed into the air as if he were being borne up by a great force. 

  


  


"Legolas!" Aaron shouted as he heard Legolas’ cry for help become distant.

  


  


Legolas could not see what had caught him but he felt its teeth around his waist and knew that the beast was merely in the process of picking him up despite the breaking of skin. It had not even gotten to business of masticating its meal but when it did, Legolas knew he was dead. Keeping a cool head despite the situation he found himself in and feeling large sharp teeth pressing into his body with enough pressure to draw blood, Legolas forced himself to remain calm. Breathing hard as someone in his situation could be forgiven for doing so, his fingers trembled slightly as he took aim at the flesh he could feel. He crushed ruthlessly his terror, because he needed to be focussed to release an arrow accurately.

  


  


He had no idea where it struck but the arrow unleashed had the desired effect of forcing the creature to roar in pain, opening its jaws wide enough for Legolas to escape its grip. He fell from a considerable height and landed hard a few second later, feeling ribs crack at the impact. A soft groan of pain escaped the elven archer as he doubled up in agony. However, he could allow himself no more than a moment before he was forced to gather his wits about him to make his escape. The creature’s roar of pain had become one of anger and as Legolas scrambled to his feet to run, he could hear its approach.

  


  


"Legolas, stay down!" Eve shouted in warning as Bryan opened fire. 

  


  


They could not see the creature very well even with torches but its movement had given them somewhere to aim the light. Standing over Legolas, they could the tree trunk thickness of a long neck culminating into an eyeless head that resembled a Venus flytrap with serrated teeth of massive size. Its body was half emerged from a gaping fissure in the ground and yet its size still required that it had to lower its head to keep from bumping the roof of the cavern. 

  


  


With the scant illumination that they were able to produce, Bryan, Eve and Haldir were able to see enough of the creature to attack. A murderous hail composing of bullets and arrows were soon tearing through the beast’s neck, forcing another roar of both pain and rage throughout the cavern as all three focused their attack in a focussed effort. The noise was so loud that it could be felt in the ground and cavern.

  


  


Meanwhile Aaron scrambled under the deadly barrage to pull Legolas to safety. The elf was on his knees, trying to move but the compression to his ribcage necessary to crouch low was nothing short of agonizing and his movements were slow. Legolas could also feel the blood saturating his clothes from the creature’s teeth marks upon his skin and knew he would experience far worse if he did not move out of its way.

  


  


"How you doing?" Aaron asked as the human slid Legolas’ arm around his shoulder in order to help him move.

  


  


"Why is it you humans ask the most inappropriate questions?" Legolas grunted as Aaron began dragging him away. "I have almost become the meal of some nameless horror and been dropped from its mouth like uneaten leavings and why might I ask must they be always be nameless? I know the first thought in my mind after seeing such a beast would be to put a name what it was I was running from…"

  


  


"You must be hurt," Aaron looked at him, "you’re rambling."

  


  


"Elves do not ramble," Legolas retorted. "We soliloquize."

  


  


Aaron started to respond was suddenly Legolas went still again. Through gunfire and the bellowing noise of the creature as it battled the humans and elves with their projectile weapons, Legolas could feel something coming towards them.

  


  


"GET DOWN!" He shouted and pulled Aaron to the dirt just as another sudden gust of wind blew over them.

  


  


Gandalf saw the thick trunk of the beast in the fringes of the light from his staff and knew that he had to act. Removing Glamdring from its sheath, the ancient sword glowed in the darkness less brightly than it should. Gandalf stepped forward into the battle after ensuring that Tory and Fred were safely out of harm’s way before going to the aid of his companions. The beast that they were fighting was unknown even in the time of Middle earth. It had been born during the chaos before the Valar’s arrival into Ea because Melkor had gone first to spread evil across Arda in its infacncy.

  


  


Legolas and Aaron saw the long neck for the barest fraction of a second after it had made its attempt to take one of them. It moved like a whiplash, impossibly fast for something that size and left behind the stench of fetid breath.

  


  


"Jesus Christ!" Aaron shouted. "What the hell was that?"

  


  


"I think it has two heads," Legolas replied.

  


  


"It has more," Gandalf retorted and walked past them, striding boldly towards the beast, a column of glowing steel in his hand as Glamdring lit the way almost as brightly as his staff. 

  


  


The wizard came to a pause in between Bryan and Eve who had not ceased their deadly barrage and had been spending the last few minutes avoiding the beast’s efforts to cease their attack with its snapping jaws. 

  


  


"Glad to see you join the party," Bryan remarked anxiously as he reloaded his weapon. The long neck of unbroken skin was now bleeding in several places, wounded by bullets and arrows collectively. 

  


  


Gandalf said nothing and saw the creature heave in protest at the light from his staff and understood something about their opponent in that moment. The light frightened it. As much as it could consume the light, it was also afraid of it. The creature seemed to sense him as well because the pause in gunfire allowed Gandalf to hear its retreat, as if it was aware that what it faced was no longer potential food but rather a threat to its survival.

  


  
__

*"Ego deleb dagnir od Morgoth! Drega nan iaur nûr en ardhon ad egor matha ir naeg ned calad!’ 

The creature seemed to understand the words spoken in elvish and bellowed so loudly that it was near deafening. The warning however went unheeded and one of its heads lunged at Bryan. The MI6 agent jumped out of the way, barely escaping those terrible jaws clamping around his torso and rolled onto his knee to blast away when the creature made another attempt. The shotgun pellets sprayed across the beast’s formidable skull, extracting a howl of pain from that shook the cavern with its rage. He saw another long shape approaching Eve and was on his feet before he knew what was happening.

"Watch out Eve!" Bryan shouted and tackled the young woman to the ground just as the jaws of the creature’s snapped close. It lingered over their heads for a second, its foul breath washing over them with heat. Covering her body with his own, Bryan raised his weapon to fire when an arrow struck the thing in the mouth and forced the creature to rear its head up in pain. Another followed in rapid succession, until it had pulled away into the darkness.

"Are you both alright?" Haldir asked in concern upon hurrying forward, his eyes watching the beast instead it came at them again.

"We’re fine," Bryan answered with a nod.

"That’s nice to hear," Eve declared before adding tersely, "now get off me."

Bryan response was cut off by a sudden burst of bright light flooding the cavern with such blinding intensity that for a moment, no one could see anything. It spread out like flare of white, shunting aside the darkness like the rising of the sun after a long and arduous night. Every corner of the cavern was filled with its powerful radiance, until they could see the cavern in its entirety and the exit that they had sought was now in plain view. They also caught their first glimpse of the monster they were battling in all its awesome power.

  


  


It was very big, so much bigger than they had imagined. The darkness had hidden its bulk well but it was easily bigger than the watcher that had plagued Aaron for so many nights since the doctor’s encounter with it. The creature before them had three heads with necks as long as an ancient saurian with mouthfuls of large, sharp teeth. It had no eyes that could be seen but in darkness such as these, receptors needing light to function seemed to be a useless characteristic. Gandalf’s staff was shinning so brightly that they could not look at the wizard for more than a second when he faced the creature.

  


  


The light was making it writhe in agony, it attempted to retreat into the cool of darkness but Gandalf’s spell was powerful indeed and the refuge of darkness was nowhere to be found in the cave. The wizard ran forward, bringing the strobe of burning light closer to the beast though it was already recoiling from the illumination throughout the cavern. The proximity drove it further into the ground, driven there by the light as well as arrows and bullets. Bryan, Eve, Haldir and Aaron had concentrated their efforts as Gandalf approached the thing. Shooting at its flaying heads to ensure that the way was clear for the Istar to act.

  


  


It was already starting to retreat into the fissure but Gandalf was not about to let this thing disappear into the depths where it would remain for another eon before emerging to plague the world again. When he was close enough, Gandalf swung the blade borne by Turgon, the elven King of Gondolin, wielded in the battles of _Nirnaeth Arnoediad_ and of Gondolin before its ultimate fall. The blade was older than history and had spilled much blood in its time. It was more than capable of slicing through the thick neck of the retreating creature, tearing through flesh and bone without pause as a howl of agony shook the air. Black blood sprayed in all directions as the severed neck slammed into the dirt. 

  


  
  
The creature was bleeding profusely, spraying dark blood as it attempted to escape into the depths once more. Gandalf was not about to let it do so and quickly swung the blade again as two of its remaining necks began to descend. Another agonized screech was heard amidst the gunfire and arrows as the second head impacted against the ground, sending cloud of dust in the air as well as splatters of blood. A crimson pool began to expand across the dirt as Gandalf moved quickly to deliver another blow, appearing not as a frail old man but someone immensely powerful that left his companions in awe. Glamdring swung once more and in a final bellow of rage and pain, the creature was at last felled, it remaining head joining the others in a grisly pile. 

  


  


For a few seconds after its death, no one could speak. 

  


  


The air was filled with the stench of blood and dust in the wake of the carnage. The creature’s blood flowed across the dirt in thick, viscous pools. The darkness that had been so overwhelming had thinned somewhat and the light emanating from Gandalf’s staff had receded to manageable levels. Seconds tumbled by and no one could form words as they stared at the creature’s dismembered remains, grateful that they had survived though none save Legolas had ever seen Gandalf wield his power so potently. Haldir had known of Olorin’s strength but like the humans had never seen it employed so effectively.

  


  


"Well now I’ve seen everything," Bryan broke the silence first. "Giant spiders, elves, wizards, dark lords and whatever this bloody thing is. My memoirs are going to be worth a fortune."

  


  


"I had no idea you were such a bad ass Gandalf," Eve cracked a smile and Gandalf was well aware that humans sometimes diffused their extreme fear with humor, "remind me never to make you mad."

  


  


"Creatures formed before the rising of the sun have an aversion to light," Gandalf replied, his attention fixed on Legolas who Aaron was tending to. "They may be bigger but they are no different than orcs."

  


  


"I’m glad you are on our side," Aaron said offering the old man a little smile. 

  


  


"How are you old friend?" Gandalf asked Legolas with concern. 

  


  


"I’ll live," Legolas replied with a smile. "I have had worse."

  


  


"Can you walk?" Aaron asked. "I’d rather be out of here with some decent light before I try to fix you up."

  


  
  
"I have come this far," Legolas replied as he gestured for Aaron to help him to his feet, "I will not let injury hinder me now."

  


  
  
"Spoken like an elf with more courage than sense," Haldir replied good naturedly, secretly grateful that Legolas had not been hurt any worse than he had.

  


  


"That would be me," the elf grinned though it was not long before he was flinching in pain again.

  


  
  
"Well let’s keep moving," Bryan spoke up after he brought Tory and Fred out of their hiding place. Both had taken cover at Gandalf’s instruction, with Tory protecting Fred while the rest of the company fought the creature. "It won’t take the Nine very long to work out their beastie didn’t get us."

  


  


"Yes," Gandalf nodded. "We must forge onward. The enemy’s pawns are being shifted into place…"

  


  


**********

  


[Back to List](http://astele.co.uk/henneth/Chapter)


	15. Chapter Thirteen: Domain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

  
__

Authors Note:

  


  
__

I don’t know whether the names of the Wraiths are Tolkien’s creations or not. I happened to find a site that outlined a history of them and used the names because it allowed me to distinguish them a little.

  


  


************

  


  


They were inside Saeran’s domain. After everything they had endured to reach this point, Aaron was not certain what he was expecting.

  


  


John Malcolm’s Monolith, with the exception of the watcher in the basement, was more or less a stock standard office building. It was a place of business for most part with only a few sections dedicated to the machinations of the former Valar outcast. With the exception of the watcher, the sentinels of his kingdom were men armed with guns and were conventional dangers that Aaron had been able to grasp easily. All Aaron had truly cared about when dealing with Malcolm was the fact that he had abducted Eve and Gandalf. Thanks to his humanity, he had sensed little of the danger beyond those mitigating facts. Only the elves had been truly aware of the innate evil that thrived in the glass tower of Malcolm’s kingdom while he remained blissfully oblivious. 

  


  
  
Unfortunately this time, he was spared nothing. 

  


  


From the moment they left the dark tunnels that led to Saeran’s domain and found the uneven walls of caverns being replaced by dungeon like corridors, Aaron could feel the evil in the place. John Malcolm may have been David Saeran’s master but it was clear that the dark lord once known as Sauron was far more dangerous than Morgoth could have ever been. Morgoth was a god and anticipated that everything would fall into place, using intimidation and power to bend others to his will because such was the way with deities. Sauron on the other hand used cunning and manipulation to achieve the same end. In Aaron’s opinion, he was far more dangerous than any god because he was the worst kind of enemy

  


  
  
Sauron was the kind who learnt from his mistakes. 

  


  


As soon as they reached a juncture of corridor where there was sufficient light to see what he was doing, Aaron forced the company to stop. Legolas, despite his stubborn elven bravado was seriously hurt. The lacerations on his skin were incidental but the cracked ribs were not. Aaron could tell by his laboured breathing that his injuries was more than just a matter of broken bones. Although elves and humans were two different species, physiologically, they bore remarkably similar characteristics. He was certain that genetic comparisons would explain why elves lived immortal lives when humans did not however, for most part, their organs, pulmonary and reproductive systems were more or less the same. It had to be or else elves and human would not be capable of breeding.

  


  


"I am able to continue," Legolas protested when Aaron was unable to tolerate seeing the elf attempting to push on as if nothing was wrong. "I am an elf and in better stead than you humans to endure pain."

  


  


"Oh give me a break," Aaron snapped when he grabbed the elf’s arm to keep him from moving. "I don’t have to have super elf hearing to know what a punctured lung sounds like, so sit your ass down so I can deal with it before you drop dead!"

  


  


"One hundred thousand years past and you still cluck like a hen!" Legolas hissed as he unwillingly acquiesced to Aaron’s demands. In truth, he had not the strength to stop the human. "In Caradhras - the hobbits were going to die of frostbite. In Moria, we were going to die of suffocation. In Lothlorien it was allergies! There is always something threatening life and limb with you!"

  


  


"I’m still having a look at your wounds," Aaron said sweetly, undaunted by the tirade.

  


  


"We do not have time for my injuries to delay us," Legolas insisted.

  


  


"Belt up and let him have a look at you," Bryan retorted, similarly annoyed by the elf’s attempt to be brave. There was nothing he hated more than a member of his team who refused to be helped. 

  


  


Legolas looked at Haldir and spoke in elvish, "I could use your words of support. Tell them that they are worrying needlessly, we elves do not need such care," 

  


  


Haldir gave him a look and replied, "no, because I agree with the Elfstone."

  


  


"Hey I speak elvish too you know," Aaron said sarcastically. 

  


  


"And I thank Morgoth for that everyday," Legolas returned just as acerbically. 

  


  


"Look, we could all use a breather after what’s happened," Bryan replied, gazing not only at Legolas but also at Tory and Fred. "The rest of your stay here a minute, Eve and I are going to scout up ahead, see if anyone’s about. Saeran’s people will be looking for us once they know we’ve killed his little pet."

  


  


"Little?" Eve stared at him.

  


  


"Well think of it this way, it wasn’t a spider," he winked at her with a roguish smirk.

  


  


"Bite me, you limey bastard," Eve scowled.

  


  


"That’s Yorkshire bastard," Tory corrected her and smiled sweetly at Bryan. 

  


  


"We will do as you ask Bryan," Gandalf spoke in an effort to send them along. "However, we cannot wait too long."

  


  


"I know," Bryan nodded in understanding, "but we’re almost to him. I don’t want us to fail jus short of reaching Saeran."

  


  


"Agreed," the old man replied, thinking the same thing.

  


  


*********

  


  


"How are we going to play this?" Eve asked as they reached the first corridor. 

  


  


"Straight down the middle and kill anything before it gets a look at us," Bryan stated firmly, not meeting her gaze as he strode up the middle of the corridor. 

  


  


"I can do that," Eve remarked with a little smile, falling into step next to him. Both of them were simultaneously checking their guns, a instinctual habit rather than of need since neither of them were novices and were armed and ready the moment they left the others. 

  


  


"We won’t get too far ahead," Bryan continued speaking, grateful that Eve was deferring to his lead in this situation. "Don’t want us to get cut off from the others if we get into trouble."

  


  


Eve tended to agree even though she did not voice it. In truth, Bryan reminded her a great deal of the partner she had been assigned when she had first made detective. He was a fifteen-year veteran by the time she was forced to share a squad car with him and had cared less that she was a woman. Sex, race or color mattered little to him, the ability to learn and watch his back was more or less all he required of her and for the next four years, she had learnt well at his side. He knew everything there was to know about the street and what she thought she knew she had learnt at the Academy was worth jack shit when she was out on the street. Being his partner had taught her how to stay alive and Bryan’s no nonsense attitude reminded her a lot of Rick who had died in the line of duty.

  


  


Tory had not been exaggerating when she claimed the corridors were like a maze. It appeared that Saeran had added to the original construction of the castle, extending the dungeon like passageways with modern looking corridors that looked as if they belonged in an office building rather than an ancient Romanian castle. He and Eve prepared to investigate the rooms contained in this section because Tory was right, they did have the look of a research facility of some kind. After seeing what Saeran had been conjuring in terms of giant spiders and strange creatures called Uruk Hai, Bryan wanted no more surprises.

  


  


**********

  


  


Seated quietly by Tory’s side, Fred had drifted off to sleep against the woman’s lap as Aaron tended to Legolas’ injuries. Gandalf appeared to be in meditation, as if he were trying to tap into the thoughts of dark lord within this fortress, trying to discern what other machinations Saeran had set into motion in his efforts to destroy the world. Considering what the child had been through the past few hours, Tory did not see any reason to wake her as their situation reached a momentary interlude. Tory stroked her hair gently, trying not to smile as she heard Legolas arguing with Aaron regarding the quality of care he was receiving while Haldir had chosen sensibly to keep watch and stay beyond the range of their verbal sparing. 

  


  


Suddenly, Fred opened her eyes and sat up straight. The child met Tory’s gaze and once more, the English barrister was rather taken by the mesmerizing beauty of the child’s brilliant blue eyes. However, this fascination lasted briefly because the expression on Fred’s face in the wake of her sudden rising was one of panic. 

  


  


"What’s wrong darling?" Tory asked her gently, "did you have a bad dream?"

  


  


"Bryan," Fred stammered. "Bryan is in trouble."

  


  


"Bryan’s fine," Tory said, her chest tightening and noting that Gandalf had opened his eyes and was staring directly at them both while Aaron and Legolas’ argument was suddenly cut short. "He’ll be back soon."

  


  


"He’s in trouble," the child insisted, growing more fearful by the second. "They both are!"

  


  


"How do you know?" Tory found herself asking, having no experience with the child’s foresight the way Bryan had. 

  


  


"I know," she looked at the adults around her enigmatically. "I always know when they are coming."

  


  


"They?" Aaron asked, "you mean Bryan and Eve?"

  


  


"No," Fred shook her head, her dark hair bouncing, "The bad men with the red eyes," she swallowed. "They’ve come. They’re here."

  


  


************

  


  


They came out of nowhere, almost as if they stepped out of the dark.

  


  


Considering what they were, it was not such a far-fetched idea. Bryan and Eve were ready to rejoin the others when they noticing the dimming of the lights in the corridor they were presently in. For an instant, it appeared as if the lights would vanish completely but then the illumination paused midway between darkness and light, casting tall shadows throughout the corridors. The casting of light and shadows obscured corners and junctures in the hallways, hiding what they were able to see clearly a moment ago. 

  


  


Both remained still for a moment, assessing the situation in silence even as the shadows around them grew taller. Bryan cocked the shotgun in his hand and saw Eve doing the same. He met her gaze in wordless communication and indicated that they ought to retrace their steps down the hallway slowly but steadily. With equal silence, Eve agreed with this and they began to lay a stealthy retreat though both were poised to move faster if the situation changed, which they fully anticipated it would in a matter of seconds.

  


  


They had reached no further than the next corridor when the shadows began to take shape and out of the darkness, Bryan and Eve found themselves facing the Nine. If Tory were present, she would have been able to tell them that the wraiths had emerged from the very doorway that had inadvertently led her and Fred to the Uruk Hai gestation chamber. Their appearance were like the shadows given life and though they were still sunglasses despite the dim light, Bryan fancied he could see the crimson points of their eyes. The Nine spread out immediately upon seeing their human quarry, dispersing in some unspoken pattern of attack that Bryan supposed he and Eve would find out soon enough. 

  


  


A powerful wall of bullets exploded out of the efficient Mini Uzi SMG sub machine guns they were carrying. The velocity of the projectiles chased Eve and Bryan out of the hallway as bullets dug into the concrete walls. Bryan could feel the shards of rock exploding across his back as he and Eve sprinted forward trying to escape the murderous hail. Upon reaching the safety of a corner wall, he swung around and returned fire but the shotgun was a short-range weapon. 

  


  


After two shots that blew a good portion of the concrete from the wall near the wraith called Akhorahil, he switched immediately to something more effective. The handgun did not have the power of the shotgun but it was certainly more effective and he was an excellent shot. Gandalf was supposed to have blessed his weapons with some elvish spell that had sounded rather far-fetched to Bryan at the time. However, at this moment, he really needed to believe that this spell worked.

  


  


The bullet escaping the barrel of the Walter PPK slammed into the knee of the wraith in the lead. The creature hissed in pain as his leg buckled under him and clutched his knee. Bryan could see no evidence of blood but the fact that the Akhorahil had been hurt gave him incentive to continue. He immediately targeted the wraith once more, this time sending a more precise shot through the pasty mask on the creature’s face. The sunglasses perched on his face, fairly shattered as the projectile tore through it and Akhorahil fell backwards. Bryan had a sense that this was not enough to kill but hurting the wraith satisfied the MI6 agent immensely. 

  


  


The others were advancing ahead as the air became charged with their rage. Bryan could see them staring at him in hatred, firing with more intensity until the barrage assaulting the wall he had taken refuge behind started to crumble. The edge of the cornerstone was being eroded away and the floor became littered with plaster and mortar. They were pushing forward with relentlessly, determined to overwhelm Bryan and Eve with ammunition. They were trying to close the distance and Bryan who had been well versed by Gandalf regarding what these creatures were capable of, knew that neither he nor Eve wanted to be there when they finally did. 

  


  


"Come on!" Bryan turned to Eve as she lay down cover fire, ensuring that while he was cutting one of the wraiths to pieces, the creature’s companions did not do the same to him. She had been firing blindly at them, creating a shield of bullets around Bryan so he would not get himself killed. The spell that Gandalf had cast upon their weapons was certainly doing the trick. For once, the Nine were unable to shake off the bullets being fired at them even though Eve doubted that they were little more than a stopgap measure. Sauron had built his servants to withstand much and none of his creatures epitomized this more than the dreaded Nazgul. They shrank back from the path of bullets once they were aware that it could hurt them, giving Eve and Bryan some room to breathe and for that matter escape.

  


  


"Where are we going?" Eve asked, running after him as they left the sound of exploding gunfire behind them.

  


  


"I don’t know!" Bryan retorted and skidded to a halt when he turned the corner and saw two of the Nazgul advancing towards them. He retreated as they opened fire, barely escaping the path of the Uzi’s lethal spray. The adjacent wall caught the brunt of the gunfire, tearing through the mortar in an expansive pattern. Bryan almost stumbled into Eve who immediately pressed herself against the protection of the corridor wall. She dragged Bryan back to safety before firing at the Nazgul who were attempting to close them in on both sides. 

  


  


"Thanks," Bryan said as he hurried back the way he came and saw that Nazgul were advancing in the other direction as well. It did not take him long to decide that they were being hemmed in on both sides. 

  


  


"Bryan!" Eve called out to him as he was making this discovery. "I’m running out of ammo!"

  


  


"Me too," he replied, trying to be heard over the sound of gunfire. "They’re closing in on us, we have to get out of here."

  


  


"We’re going to have to go through them," Eve met his gaze.

  


  


"Yeah we do," he nodded, "you up for it?"

  


  


"I am if you are," she gave him a little smile. 

  


  


"Okay," Bryan returned her smile with one of his own and took a deep breath, trying to think of what strategy if any they could employ. "Head shots both of them. It won’t kill them but it will give them a bloody headache to remember and it could distract them long enough for us to get past."

  


  


"Alright," Eve agreed since his plan was a good one despite the hint of desperation attached to it. "On the count of three?"

  


  


"I don’t think we have time," he admitted. "Just follow me and start shooting when I do," he said pulling away to the corner.

  


  


Bryan stepped out just as the two Nazgul who were known as Adunaphel and Hoarmurath paused to reload their Uzis with new magazines. With the amount of shells they had been firing, it was probably a sensible course during the lull in the shooting. This time, Bryan used the shotgun, firing one shot from the weapon that sent a spray of pellets into the body of the nearest Nazgul within reach. The wraith staggered backwards but remained on his feet. The blast would have killed a normal human being where he stood but the Nazgul merely reeled in pain. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Bryan took careful aim with the gun in his other hand and pulled the trigger. The projectile tore through the Nazgul’s forehead and while Bryan could see no blood, he could see the fissure in the mask as the bullet penetrated.

  


  
  
The other Nazgul prepared to return fire when suddenly; he too reacted to similar pain when Eve delivered her assault upon him. Her marksmanship was as exact as Bryan’s and both wraiths were adequately incapacitated by the time Bryan and Eve were hurrying past them. It was just as well because the other Nazgul had rounded the corner and was firing at them to halt their flight. The bullets tore after them as they rounded the corridor, with barely seconds to spare. Eve and Bryan found themselves at the head of another hallway. This one however, had a door was situated in the middle of it, secured by what appeared to be a card activated lock. 

  


  


"This way," Bryan declared, confident that he would be able to breach it with the aid of his 45-caliber lock pick.

  


  


"Hurry!" Eve declared as he reached the door. She had her gun aimed and ready to shoot the first thing that rounded the corridor. 

  


  


Bryan did not bother attempting to tackle the card panel and turned his shotgun against the lock. The blast from the weapon destroyed effectively the locking mechanism as well as a good portion of the wood surrounding the handle. With a forceful kick, the door swung open beneath Bryan’s boot just as Eve released a barrage of gunfire at the Nazgul turning the corner in pursuit. Two shots slammed into the torso of the wraith as Bryan paused at the doorway to cover her retreat.

  


  


"Get in there!" He ordered.

  


  


Eve nodded briefly and hurried past Bryan as he laid down cover of suppressing fire. Eve noted as she darted into the room that he was deploying single shots from his gun instead of rapid-fire discharges to cover her back. Unfortunately, this would not escape the notice of the Nazgul either. If they had any sense at all, they would realize that Bryan was shooting this way in an effort to conserve ammunition. Once inside the room, Bryan followed suit and shut the door behind him upon entry. The nature of his bypassing the locking mechanism made it impossible to keep anyone else out and even as he was entering, Eve was already clearing a nearby table of its contents so that she could use it to barricade the door.

  


  


"Help me!" She ordered as she pushed the heavy metal bench against the door. It was not much of an obstruction but it would help until they figured out what they were going to do next. Within seconds, they had pushed it up against the door, metal screeching against the tiled floor as they dragged it along. 

  


  


"That won’t hold them for long," she met his gaze.

  


  


"If at all," Bryan remarked as the gunfire ceased for a moment. No doubt, the Nazgul had determined where they had gone and so no reason to continue shooting until they caught sight of their prey once more.

  


  


"Where are we anyway?" Eve asked off handedly as she turned her attention to the room she was in. 

  


  


"Its some kind of laboratory," Bryan deduced quickly. Tory was right. There was some form of research being done here. He stared at the wide room with its white walls, tiled floors, its autoclaves, microwave equipment, centrifuges, steel benches and cryogenic storage refrigerators, Bryan came to the conclusion that it was in laboratories like this one that Saeran had created his new Uruk Hai army. 

  


  


Eve walked to one of the refrigerators and opened the door to peer inside. A gust of cold vapor escaped the cabinet before clearing to reveal a number of test tubes sitting neatly in racks. The fluid inside them did not appear to be blood and she reached for the clipboard hanging in front of it. Bryan in the mean time was reinforcing their barricade with other pieces of heavy furniture. Unfortunately, the heavier equipment inside the room was bolted to the floor so he had to make do with benches and tables. 

  


  


"Where’s Aaron when you need him," Eve grumbled as she studied the page which had some notes about UV sensitivity but she could not understand the rest of the jargon that was scrawled across it. Eve had never really paid attention to Aaron’s handwriting before but was grateful that he did not possess the illegibility suffered by most physicians. "This is important I’m sure of it but I can’t understand it."

  


  


"Let me take a look," Bryan offered, approaching her. 

  


  


Staring at the clipboard after she handed it to him, he had to confess to the same confusion himself. "It says sample has been treated for UV sensitivity."

  


  


"I think we should let Aaron see this," Eve remarked tearing the page off the clipboard and storing it in her jacket. 

  


  


"We can get out through there," Bryan pointed to an air vent that was large enough for them to crawl through. 

  


  
  
His declaration coincided with a loud thud against the door. The tables and objects stacked against it shuddered at the impact. It was followed quickly by another, more insistent assault with both Bryan and Eve coming to the conclusion that the barricade would not hold for long under this bombardment. 

  


  


"You get going!" He ordered her, gesturing towards the vent.

  


  


"What about you?" She looked at him, her jaw setting with the determination that she was not going anywhere without him.

  


  


"I’m leaving them a little surprise," Bryan offered her a devious smirk, "now go!"

  


  


Eve’s protest was cut short by another insistent thud against the door. She swore under her breath and obeyed as he went off in the opposite direction. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Bryan collecting cans of cleaning solvent she had cleared off one of the benches when she had used it to barricade the door. The MI6 agent was picking up as many as he could, until his arms were so filled with them he could barely hold his gun. Eve thought of asking him what he was doing but decided against it, since pausing to answer her would only cost them more time. 

  


  


Turning back to the air vent, it took little more than a slight exertion of strength to pull the grate free of the opening. The recoil sent her stumbling a few steps but she recovered her balance almost instantly before throwing it aside. Inspecting the narrow tunnel that she and Bryan would have to traverse, Eve’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the stench that was emanating from it. Unfortunately, at the moment, it did not appear as if they had much of a choice in their means of escape. It was this way or not at all. The barricade of tables, chairs, and equipment that was holding the door close was shaking loose with each impact and would very soon collapse all together.

  


  


"Bryan!" Eve looked at him. "We need to go NOW!"

  


  


"I said get going!" He barked at her as he opened the door to the laboratory microwaves seated at the far corner of the room. No doubt these were used for the rapid heating of various solutions in the laboratory environment however on this occasion, Bryan had an altogether different purpose in mind. There were at least three microwaves in the place and Bryan intended to put each to good use, repeating the same process with each one as he moved along the bench where they were stored. The pounding behind him was coupled with more and more of the barricade giving way and he knew he had only a few seconds left to act. It was not long before he finished his plan of escape by activating the appliances after presetting the timer.

  


  


Eve was already crawling down the shaft when Bryan reached the vent. As he clambered through the opening, which his shoulders were barely able to clear, he could hear the sparks within the ovens cackling with threat. The aerosol cans of solvent he had left in ample quantities in each of the appliances were beginning to superheat already and would soon reach critical mass. With the kind of equipment that was contained in the room, autoclaves that utilized some form of gas for its pressurized sterilization systems not to mention the cryogenic refrigeration units would not react well to the explosion he was about to cause.

  


  


"Move faster!" Bryan shouted at Eve as she crawled down the grimy shaft.

  


  


"I’m moving as fast as I can!" She snapped back and hastened her pace, which was no easy thing in such cramped confines. Her arms and legs were aching but she forced herself to crawl faster because if this tunnel was hard on her, she could not imagine what it would be like for Bryan who was considerably bigger than she. 

  


  


Bryan looked over his shoulder; not an easy proposition considering the space he had to work with. His head bumped against the steel conduit and he cursed under his breath. The opening of the vent was growing distant and the thudding had reached climax as the door burst open beyond his sight. The clatter of objects and furniture reached down the narrow chute, followed by gunfire as the Nazgul cleared their entry into the room with a barrage of bullets. 

  


  


The shaft was now beyond the reach of the bright white lights within the room and as she moved ahead, Eve was gripped with this feeling of anxiety because she could not see ahead and there was very little room to maneuver if something went wrong. However, the urgency in Bryan’s voice forced her to keep moving and as the air became more dank, Eve prayed that he knew what he was doing.

  


  


************

  


  


The Nazgul lord entered the laboratory and scanned the room for their quarry. It did not take him long to find them gone. The room was in disarray but he found what he was seeking almost instantly. The open air vent stared at him like a gaping mouth and told him almost as succinctly as a spoken voice where the enemy had gone. He took a step towards it; intending to pursue them down that dark passage if needed in order to acquire them. The man Bryan had earned his especial hatred, interfering with their business with the Ringbearer one time too many. The Nazgul lord shivered inwardly at the kind of death he would deliver to the troublesome reincarnation of Gondor’s favorite son.

  


  


"They have gone down there," he told the others who were filling into the room, with a loud hiss.

  


  


"Something is happening," Akhorahil responded urgently. The former lord of Numenor, who had been just as ensnared by the Nine Rings of Power as the rest of his comrades, approached the oven that was sparking with growing intensity within the room.

"What do you mean?" The witch king looked at him with concern. 

  


  


"Look," he gestured to the oven. 

  


  


"The others are doing the same," Indur formerly of Mumakan, observed.

  


  


The witch king had but a moment to process this information before a shrill sound emanated in succession from the appliances…

  


  


***********

  


  


 

  


 

  


The explosion was so loud that it rocked the foundations of the castle. The trio of microwaves erupted simultaneously, expending heat and energy that quickly consumed the autoclaves and the refrigeration unit. The mixture of gases ignited spectacularly, blowing out walls and causing a rumble throughout the entire structure that could be felt from its loftiest heights to the very bowels of its construction. The heat blew apart doors and sent jets of flame down corridors and through vents. For a moment, it felt as if the earth was heaving in protest at the ground rumbled.

  


  


************

  


  


The sound of gunfire had echoed down the hallways as soon as the weapons were discharged and though Aaron’s first instinct was to charge to Eve and Bryan’s aid, a situation was developing with Legolas that could not wait. The elf was trying to hide it but his breathing was becoming more labored and Aaron knew he would not survive the next few hours unless Aaron did something now. Time was not only crucial for the continued existence of the world but also for his best friend.

  


  


"Legolas," Aaron met his gaze as he tried to ignore the sound of gunfire that was raging in the distance. "You are going to die unless you I treat you now."

  


  


"Obviously your training as a physician did not include a lesson in beside manner," Legolas grunted through a strained breath.

  


  


Aaron cracked a faint smile but there was no humor in it, "I have to lay it out for you because I need your permission to continue. This is something that should be done in a hospital with a chest tap but that’s impossible right now. All I can do is to remove the fluid from your lungs for the moment and keep doing it until I can get you into a hospital. You need surgery."

  


  


"What do you have to do?" Tory asked, joining her old friend because she could see the anxiety in his face. 

  


  


"I have to perform a procedure called a thoracentesis," Aaron explained. "There’s fluid accumulating in his lungs because of the puncture. The procedure will stop him from drowning in it until we can get him to surgery. I can do with what anaesthetic I have but it has to be done now, before the bleeding gets worse."

  


  


"How long will you need?" Gandalf asked gravely.

  


  


"Half hour at the most," Aaron answered. "We can’t be interrupted."

  


  


"You will not be," Haldir said firmly. "Mithrandir and I will see to that."

  


  


"Good," Aaron nodded. "I think however, you ought to go find Bryan and Eve. Make sure they don’t lead Saeran’s entire Uruk army back here."

  


  


His motivation was not merely because of the procedure. The sound of gunfire and knowing that Eve was out there, on the receiving end of it frightened Aaron to no end, especially when he was unable to help her. Gandalf met his gaze knowingly and Aaron knew that he was hiding nothing from the astute old wizard. Fortunately, the Maia was too much of a friend to make mention of it. 

  


  


"That is good precaution," he agreed turning to Haldir.

  


  
  
"Are you certain that it is wise for you to be alone while attempting this treatment?" Haldir asked reluctant to leave Legolas when the elf was in such a vulnerable condition.

  


  


"Its never wise to attempt this anywhere but in a hospital but that’s how its got to be," Aaron replied shortly. "The sooner I get started the better, now get going."

  


  


His demand coincided with a violent explosion of sound with intensity that was powerful enough to make the walls around them shudder and quake. The mortar holding the bricks together had shaken loose as trails of particles drifted from the roof above. The shockwave subsided a moment with everyone needing to hold onto something in order to ride out the blast. A gust of heat washed over them for a few seconds followed by the unmistakable stench of smoke.

  


  


"What on earth was that?" Tory exclaimed after the walls had stopped shuddering in protest over whatever cataclysm that had rocked the castle to its very foundations. 

  


  


"It felt like an explosion," Aaron deduced quickly, perfectly aware of what a detonation sounded like after his adventures in the Malcolm Building. "I think Bryan and Eve have been busy," he remarked raising his eyes to Gandalf’s. "I think you better go find them."

  


  


Gandalf seemed to agree. "We will not be long," he stated before gesturing at Haldir for them to leave. "Take care old friend," he said to Legolas. "I do not wish to be last remaining member of the Fellowship on this earth."

  


  


"I survived a sea voyage with Haldir," Legolas offered a weak smile, "I will survive this."

  


  


Haldir rolled his eyes as Gandalf chuckled but the warmth between them was unmistakable and lingered even after the wizard and the elf departed to find their companions. Aaron watched them go and took a deep breath as he reached for his medical bag. It disturbed him to no end that his gun was also within easy reach. He prayed he did not have to use it because Legolas needed his undivided attention.

  


  


If the procedure did not work, it would not matter whether or not they stopped Saeran; Legolas would not live to see the dawn.

************

  


  


 

  


Bryan and Eve emerged from the air vent at another part of the complex and discovered that the little ‘surprise’ he had left for the Nazgul had caused significant damage to Saeran’s research complex. The corridors were quickly filling up with smoke and suddenly; the quiet and empty hallways were filled with Saeran’s researchers trying to make their escape. Most of them appeared to be exactly what they were, research staff with no idea or no compunction that what they were creating down here for their master was the blueprints for the extinction of the human species. However, as far as Bryan was concerned, scientists were often more concerned with the creation of a thing rather than the moral implications or the possible applications of their genius.

"We need to get back to the others," Bryan replied, confident that they had created sufficient chaos to ensure that their movements through the place could go about unnoticed.

"Yeah since we’ve completely trashed the place," Eve retorted and let Bryan led the way as he ran down the hallways, hurrying towards the older sections of the complex. 

"I made a distraction didn’t I?" He gave her a look of wounded pride. 

"Distraction and disaster are not the same thing," she returned as they hastened their pace and left behind Saeran’s fleeing human servants.

Suddenly out of the smoke, something grabbed Eve by the waist and picked her up with a powerful grip. She had barely enough time to react when she saw what look like a man running towards her holding a sword. Reacting instantly, she kicked out her foot, ensuring that it would plant itself in mid sternum when he was close enough and used the collision to propel herself backwards, taking her assailant with her. Both of them slammed into the opposite wall hard, with Eve’s attacker taking the brunt of the impact. As he was crushed between her and the wall, Eve slammed an elbow in his body and turned around to throw a road house punch against his jaw. 

  


  


He uttered a low growl as Eve stepped forward, kneeing him in the groin and forcing him to double over in pain. Seeing where she had dropped her gun, Eve skidded to the floor in an effort to retrieve it. She turned around just as the other Uruk Hai had recovered and was closing in. Eve fired one shot and blew out the back of his head when the bullet tore through his forehead. Unlike the wraiths, the Uruks were not invulnerable and he dropped to the ground where he stood, blood and gray matter creating a pool of splatter behind him. His companion glared at Eve and bared his fangs in rage before coming at her again. 

  


  


Eve raised her gun to fire, pulling the trigger as he closed the distance between them. However, the gun clicked impotently in her hand, the magazine having exhausted itself with the previous shot. The creature gloated at her and swipe the weapon out of her hand, certain that she would be incapable of defending herself without it. Eve saw the gun fly out of her grasp and turned to the Uruk Hai fearlessly. She ducked when he swung at her, moving lithely beyond the reach of his punch and pushing herself upright, inches away from him. Without giving him chance to attack, she threw her fist into his neck. Uruk Hai or not, the creature’s howl of pain was cut short as he dropped to his knees, clutching his throat in agony. 

  


  


Eve threw a forward kick, her boot breaking a jaw as it connected with his face. A spurt of blood escaped his mouth and she smashed the ball of her heel into his face and heard something else shatter under her foot. When the Uruk landed on the ground, he was completely unconscious. She turned around and saw Bryan contending with the Uruks in the same manner. It was her first opportunity to view his fighting technique and realized at that moment that she had been very lucky indeed that he had not intended to hurt her during their first encounter. In a hand to hand fight, Eve doubted she would have escaped with her life.

  


  
  
His training as one of the SAS was markedly clear as he slammed an elbow into the throat of the Uruk Hai advancing behind him, dropping the creature to his knees as quickly as she had done earlier. However, Bryan was more extreme with putting down his opponent. As the Uruk clutched his throat gasping for air, Bryan grabbed his head and twisted hard in one sharp movement. Bone squelched like elastic snapping as the Uruk’s neck broke cleanly. The Uruk had barely hit the ground before Bryan turned around and delivered am equally deadly blow to the other advancing creature with a single strike of his palm. The Uruk felt down dead without further resistance as Bryan shattered the bridge of his nose, sending bone fragments though his brain in a barrage as deadly as any produced by a bullet. 

  


  


"You alright?" Bryan looked at her with concern when he saw Eve staring at him. 

  


  


"Yeah," she nodded thoughtfully before adding, "you really could have kicked my ass back in London couldn't you?"

  


  


Bryan thought for a moment before answering, "yes," he said with complete innocence.

  


  


"Bastard," Eve frowned turning around. 

  


  


"Oh don’t say that luv," he grinned, slipping an arm around her shoulder. "After all we’ve been through together? You love me, all women do."

  


  


"God you’re full of it," Eve rolled her eyes but could not deny that the smile on his face was infectious. "I feel sorry for Tory because she _does_ love you I think."

  


  


"Really?" He looked at her, all smugness and bluster evaporating into hopeful uncertainty; "you think so."

  


  


"Yeah," Eve grinned evilly, liking to see him off balanced a little, "and if you’re really good, I’ll pass her a note after class."

  


  


"Bugger off," he retorted and regarded the handgun he had tucked in the back of his pants. Unfortunately, he had been forced to relinquish the shotgun during their journey through the vents and felt somewhat vulnerable without it. "How much ammo have you got left?"

"I’m out," she replied getting back to business. "What about you?"

"Three shells and that’s it," he replied. 

"We better get back to Aaron and the others. They got the rest of the ammunition," Eve declared before she realized that Bryan had suddenly fallen silent. 

"Hey, you listening to me?" She looked up and saw that he was quiet for good reason. 

  


  


Making their way down the corridor through the smoke and shadows were at least a dozen, armed Uruks heading straight for them.

  


  


***********

Once his course was set, Green was surprised how easily a plan fell into place.

  


  


With the town behind him, thoughts of Elizabeth grew more distant even though the pain she had caused him had taken on a life of its own. For the first time in his life, he felt as if morality, strict army discipline or the twisted priority of politics, which often had little to do with soldiering, was not restraining him. He thought of some of the things he had been forced to swallow as a soldier through the years. Most had been motivated by the foolish belief that pacifism was man’s way of dealing with conflict in a civilized manner, when in truth it was the breeding ground of subjugation. 

  


  


Even before he had become a soldier, he had watched Cuba fall to the communists and because the one effort that America had made to stop it had failed, Cuba was left to languish under the control of Castro. Allowing Castro to retain power had given the Russians leave to place their missiles ninety kilometers of the coast of the continental United States. Had they reacted then? Of course not, because peaceful solutions were found to deal with the situation when outright force was what was needed. His father had always told him that the way to deal with a bully was to give him a bloody nose and send him home crying, not politely ask him to withdraw by giving up pocket money or in this case, missiles in Turkey.

  


  


In Vietnam, the war in which he had been blooded. He saw friends and superior officers killed by the communists. They had turned Vietnam’s peaceful people into a hungry bunch of murderers who were willing to kill anyone in the name of their cause. They did not even have the decency for a straight out fight, instead hiding bombs in restaurants and hotels. It was a coward’s way of fighting and America had let them get away with it. The notion that America may have been partially responsible for the conflict in Vietnam did not even occur to Green as he drove a hundred miles out of town, towards the Launch Control Centers away from the support base. All that mattered to him was that the Communists had been allowed to have Vietnam despite the soldiers who died defending it.

  


  


The Launch Control Centers or LCC’s as they were called by those in the know, were manned by two men at all times. In the case of Minuteman ICBMs, they would have to remain at their posts in LCC for 24 hours shifts, where they would be conducting training exercise or trying to sleep in the 90 dB that could be heard when their equipment was operating at full capacity. Since he was their commanding officer, Green did not anticipate any difficulty gaining access. Snap inspections were not unheard of and since he was in charge of the whole missile program in this area, it was no exaggeration to say that his loyalty was beyond reproach.

  


  


Which in truth, it was not until now.

  


  


Green thought of Elizabeth and how she had driven to this and wondered how he could be undone so completely by a woman. Before he could question himself to deeply on that question, a sharp voice not completely his own, deep inside his head answered with a sharp and menacing hiss.

  


  


It was the communists!

  


  


Yes, Green remembered, it was the communists. They had turned Elizabeth against him. They had used her as their pawn and forced her to tell him lies under the pretext of love, making him a fool who loved her back. His heart ached in pain by the betrayal but the rage inside him did not burn as hot as when he thought about the people who had set the mechanism for his humiliation in motion. They wanted to know about America’s nuclear capability? Well, he could oblige them. If they wanted information about the Class LGM-30 Minuteman III ICBMs, he would give it to them and all the people who dared to call themselves communists. 

  


  


First hand.

  


  


**************

  


  


At the very instant that Green was contemplating his vengeance, Major Andrei Nikolaevich had arrived at the missile alert facilities in Aleysk, the Russian equivalent of the LCC. Unlike its American counterpart, the facility was manned by not two men but rather three. During the early days of Russia’s new democracy, there had been questions raised regarding the security of the missiles, when some officers loyal to the old regime had shown definitive signs of instability. Though none of them had managed anything as catastrophic as a launch, the Russian government had sat up and paid attention to the possibility. The two-man system was abandoned to include a third and REACT (Rapid Execution and Combat Targeting) consoles were adopted in 1996 to ensure that accidents could be dealt with a modicum of affectability.

  


  


However, he was a respected commander and the men who sat in charge of the facility answered to him and on some level, could be considered friends. They trusted him. He had no wish to hurt them really but one thing that Andrei did understand though many might think him a monster for believing such things, was that in war, even friends had to be sacrificed for the greater good. During the Second World War, when Hitler had violated the Axis Pact by crossing into Russia with his troops, the Russian people had mounted perhaps one of the most magnificent defenses of any homeland in the history of the world. 

  


  


Friends, family, even perfect strangers, threw themselves into the fray for the defense of the motherland because it was required. Land was ignited and whole towns were razed to the ground with the scorched earth defense they had mounted to ensure that the Germans fought for every inch of land they assumed to control. The Russians were often thought of badly because they considered six million dead Jews to be nothing in the face of the 20 million they had sacrificed to keep Russia from becoming another Nazi stronghold. 

  


  


This would be no different. He had to sacrifice those men to achieve his victory against the enemy, to make Russia great. He would push her unwillingly into the last great war that would make his nation stronger than it had ever been. He thought of his wife, who waited for him to return to Moscow and hoped that she understood that what he did, he did for her as well as Russia. In the final analysis, Russia was all about her people and her people were strong.

  


  


He arrived at the missile alert facility some miles away from the Aleysk base. It was standard operational procedure that these centers were kept away from larger command bases in the event of an attack. It was still in the middle of the night, with the snowfall rising steadily and the wind cutting into his skin when he emerged from the jeep within the compound. Considering what it was that occurred here, the missile alert facility had the outward appearance of a small, listening post consisting of one single storied building and a soft HF antenna. Thanks to the snowfall, the hard HF and transmit antennas were concealed. 

  


  


Andrei greeted the young man currently on duty at the support building during the twilight shift. The young lieutenant was alone at this hour of the night and had been captured by surprise by the sudden appearance of a major in what was obviously a surprise inspection. Still, inspections like these were not all that unusual. In recent years, they had gained some frequency and on some levels, quite beneficial to those who liked to think they were prepared for every contingency. Andrei greeted the young man and explained casually that he had been asked to do a surprise inspection of the launch control center. The lieutenant accepted this without question even though Andrei had produced some forged papers to make his lie more convincing. The boy offered no more than a cursory glance over the paperwork before promptly informing the men below that they were about to have company.

  


  


Lieutenant Dmitri Rastov keyed in the proper authorization code for the lifts to take the Major to the control center beneath the support building and turned around just in time to see a gun barrel staring back at him. He had no more than half a second to register this information before the gun fired its bullet soundlessly through the silencer fitting and ended any speculation whatsoever when the projectile tore apart his brain.

  


  


************

  


  


Unlike the United States and the Russian Federation, China’s entry into the nuclear arm’s race was slow. The state of China’s current nuclear program is a source of mystery to the western world, largely because China had sense enough to pay attention to the deployment of her competitors arsenal and kept its nuclear program under tight secrecy. Since satellite technology had progressed to such a state that it was easy for the enemy to detect silos from orbit, China had taken a different tact in how it built its facilities and its control centers. Instead of locating them in places where they could be easily detected, China’s silos were constructed underground, within vast tunnel systems carved out by engineers within mountain ranges.

  


  


From orbit, it was virtually impossible to discern the locale of these silos in their underground tunnel network and if anyone outside the PLA were ever allowed to witness it, they would be impressed to say the least. An enemy attempting to bomb one of these facilities would be hard pressed to destroy it even with a nuclear arsenal at their disposal. The missiles were kept so far underground that it would require a weapon with a yield of more than 500 megatons to even reach them. Thus when Xiang took the lift shaft to the control center after disposing of the staff manning the support command, it did so with some measure of nationalistic pride which an outsider would not consider undeserved.

  


  


A sliver of remorse surfaced within Xiang as he thought about the young men he had just killed, who had looked at him with admiration and respect because he was a decorated officer without reproach. He had all the correct paperwork and they had not thought twice about giving them access to the control center for the surprise inspection he was meant to be carrying out. He had ensured that the men he would soon kill had no suspicion that anything was amiss. The moment of silence as he journeyed into through the earth to his destiny gave Xiang time to consider the righteousness of his cause. 

  


  


Cause? He snorted to himself. There was no cause. There was only vengeance. 

  


  


The Americans had driven him to this. They had used Ming with her artful sexuality to compromise his standing. Two years, she had been his mistress and he had suspected nothing. He was career officer; not at all gullible having distinguished himself on the field of battle and off it, to be taken in so completely by a whore was more than his pride could stand. He thought of all the soft whispers, all the pleasure they had shared and felt his stomach hollow in disgust at the realization that it was all a ploy to loosen his tongue. He did not know how much he had told her about the nation’s missile defense system but even a few words was too much. 

  


  


The PLA kept ironclad control over information regarding its nuclear program. When the Americans revealed that they were in possession of detailed information about Chinese missile deployment, the PLA would almost certainly know that someone in their missile staff had provided it to the enemy. It would only be a matter of time before his superiors traced that information back to him and at best, he would be court-martialed for his stupidity, and at worst he would be shot for treason. No matter how he played this out in his mind, Xiang knew that he was out of options and this most desperate of measures was the only way he could think of to keep his honor and take vengeance on those who had arbitrarily set out to destroy him.

  


  


The sudden stop of the lift jarred him out of his rampaging thoughts, which was just as well he decided as he stepped through the blast doors that were left open for him because the men within the control center trusted him. In the event of an attack, the blast doors would seal them inside the facility and would be virtually impregnable to any efforts to open it. In stepping past them, he was crossing the last obstacle that lay between sanity and what had to be.

  


  


"Colonel Li," the young captain snapped to a salute with a smile. "It is an honor to meet you Sir."

  


  


Next to him, a seasoned sargeant stood with the same attention though his salute was no less genuine.

  


  


A true soldier, Xiang thought to himself, careful never to address a superior officer unless first addressed. He was a good man and one that the PLA had too few of lately. It was a shame that Xiang had no choice in carrying out his next actions. 

  


  


"At ease, gentlemen," Xiang said after he returned their salute.

  


  


They were in the process of relaxing when Xiang reached for his sidearm and promptly fired a bullet into each of them. They fell down dead where they stood, an expression of horror and surprise etched on their faces from the half instant they were given to realize that they were about to die. Blood oozed from the ruined flesh behind their skulls, a crimson pool expanding around their skulls across the floor. Xiang lowered himself to them, ignoring their dead eyes as he removed the launch keys hanging around their necks.

  


  


There was a strange sort of clarity in his mind as he went to the launch control console and sat down. Staring at the switches but not really seeing them, his mind seemed to be operating without his need to think. Suddenly, Ming and his career felt very far away. Only the purpose before him had any true meaning. Only it was pure. He stared at the keys in his hand for a few second, wondering whether his entire life had been building towards this moment or was it just a random quirk of fate that these were the cards he ought to be dealt. Xiang did not know for certain but then great men who found themselves in situations like this rarely did. 

  


  


Sliding the first key into its slot, Xiang released a deep breath and uttered a line spoken by Caesar once a upon a time, that seemed very fitting for the occasion.

  


  


"The die is now cast."

  


*************

  


[Back to List](http://astele.co.uk/henneth/Chapter)


	16. Chapter Fourteen:  Transitory Shells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

Tory Harding wondered at what point had her quiet, predictable existence become this nightmare where she would be lucky to survive the night.

  


  


Less than a week ago, the most hazardous thing she had to worry about was whether or not she should have that extra slice of desert with lunch. Since opening her door to Aaron Stone, Tory had been chased out of her house by phantom creatures, forced to travel across Europe and nearly been clawed to death by the army of monsters belonging to an insane dark lord. To top it all off, she was now preparing to play nurse while Aaron, admittedly the closest thing she had to a brother in this world, prepared to perform some surgical procedure on an elf in the bowels of a Romanian castle.

  


  


Tory wondered if she should have just shut the damn door.

  


  


It had not been long since Gandalf and Haldir had disappeared from the dark chamber they had taken refuge following their entry into the lower levels of David Saeran's mansion. For the time being, their presence had so far gone unnoticed but Tory was certain that this was largely due to the loud explosion that had rocked the structure a short time ago. An explosion, that Bryan and Eve had undoubtedly responsible. Her intuition regarding Bryan gave her the impression that he could be a walking disaster area if he set his mind to it. In any case, the commotion he and Eve were causing ensured that the attention of Saeran's agents were fixed solely on catch them instead of anyone else who might be hiding in their master's domain.

  


  


Still, she had no wish to see him play decoy because as capable as he was, she still feared for his life. Tory knew that she was being foolish, that Bryan was more adept at staying alive than she could possibly imagine but she could not help worrying about him nonetheless. It had been no more than a week since he had entered her life but Tory knew inwardly that she had been awaiting Bryan for a very long time. Tory was never a believer in fate or destiny but with a foresight she not explain, Tory knew that they had been cheated out of a life together once already. Now that she had found him again, Tory was not eager to lose Bryan.

  


  


Tory had known love before Bryan. When she met Stuart Farmer, she had loved him but inwardly, there was something inside her that could never yield to the gentle scholar she married, no matter how much she tried. There was always apart of her that held back, restrained by some unknown yearning she had never recognized until the moment, impulse had driven her to kiss Bryan for the first time. When her lips met his, it was as if the floodgates of her emotional core had been flung open and for the first time, she was lost in the tidal of feeling that he engendered it her. 

  


  


It was vastly different from what she felt for Stuart, which was a safe sort of affection, devoid of any real fire. With Bryan, there was heat even when he was not in the room. It burned inside her relentlessly, stoking into being an emotion of all consuming passion that left her breathless. This and all the dreams that had plagued her of late convinced her that this time it had to be different. They were meant to have more than just one bittersweet moment together. She did not want to become that woman who had stood on the balcony overlooking the city of Gondor, sharing a brief interlude with Boromir that would leave her filled with regret for the rest of her life. 

  


  


Tory did not wish to be the woman who had loved Boromir of Gondor and mourned him for the rest of her days. 

  


  


**********

  


  


"Tory, keep that torch up, I need to see what I'm doing," Aaron's voice shattered Tory’s ruminations about Bryan and destiny, returning her to the moment where she was meant to be helping Aaron save Legolas Greenleaf's life.

  


  


The elven archer was unhappy to be the centre of so much attention but even in their poorly lit surroundings, there was no mistaking the pain he was trying hard to conceal from showing on his face. She had been holding the torch, providing Aaron with much needed light though she suspected it was still not enough. Their only source of light in this dark place was the battery-operated torch that left everything beyond the range of its concentration. 

  


  


In truth, Aaron preferred a considerably more light when examining any patient but since that was impossible, was forced to make do with what he had. After pulling open Legolas’ tunic, he reached out for Tory and directed her at where he wanted the torch aimed. The light concentrated on Legolas’ chest allowed Aaron to see the true extent of Legolas’ injuries. Behind him, he heard Tory drawing a deep breath at the sight of the terrible bruising against Legolas’ ribs. Deep splotches of purple was a stark contrast against the archer's pale skin and seeing it made Aaron wonder how he could have tolerated the pain for so long.

  


  


"Tory, I'm going to need your help," Aaron said firmly as he reached for his doctor's bag and rifled through its contents.

  


  


"I'll do what I can," Tory replied earnestly and meant it. Anyone who was able to keep a brave face with that kind of injury demanded her undivided attention as well as admiration.

  


  


"I still believe you are over reacting," Legolas retorted, ignoring the fact that each gentle prod Aaron was making against his skin was producing a corresponding wince of pain across his face.

  


  


"You can cut the tough guy routine," Aaron replied shortly and prepared a needle full of anaesthetic so that he could begin the procedure. "Haldir's gone, so you don't have to behave like a two year old."

  


  


"Haldir has nothing to do with it," Legolas replied indignantly, "I simply do not need to be fussed over like an infant."

  


  


"Well you are behaving like one," Aaron responded; only half listening to him because he had more important matters to attend. "Hold onto this a minute," he said to Tory and handed her the needle filled with anaesthetic so that he could continue with the rest of his preparations for Legolas’ treatment. 

  


  


After Tory had taken the needle from him, Aaron reached into his bag and produced a small bottle of alcohol. Soaking a piece of cotton wool with the clear fluid, he proceeded to sterilize the area around the ribcage where the needle would pierce the skin. Once again, Aaron frowned at where he was forced to perform such a procedure. This was hardly the fitting place to embark on such a procedure and wished he could get Legolas to a proper hospital where he would have access to X-ray machines and chest taps, unfortunately, as he had stated previously, he had little choice in the matter. 

  


  


"What are you doing?" The elf asked with a mixture of fascination as well as trepidation when the alcohol made contact with his skin and began to evaporate almost instantly.

  


  


"I'm cleaning the area where I'm going to have to put the needle," Aaron explained, trying to leave out the details because he did not wish to cause Legolas any more anxiety, no matter how well the elf may think he could handle it. Even linebackers passed out a sight of needles. 

  


  


"Needle?" Legolas looked at him.

  


  


Aaron did not answer him because explanation would only make Legolas more nervous and Aaron needed him still. Instead, the doctor continued with what he had to do. 

  


  


The procedure in itself was simple, despite the nature of the symptoms it was meant to alleviate. Once the sterilization was completed, Aaron inserted the needle into the skin and anaesthetized the area in a matter of minutes. The initial penetration caused some discomfort but Legolas bore it well and every soon the numbing sensation would ensure he felt little else. Legolas’ breathing had become more strained and hearing it hastened Aaron’s' pace because the doctor knew the elf's condition was deteriorating unless the fluid was removed quickly from his lungs. Once the anaesthetic had done its work, Aaron inserted a large needle attached to a syringe through the chest wall and into the pleural space around Legolas' injured lung. 

  


  
  
The elf had understandably turned his head away, wishing to see none of it and Tory could not blame him because she had no desire to see his blood drain into the syringe any more than he did. During that phase of the procedure, Tory ensured that Fred's gaze was fixed elsewhere because the child did not need to see this either. Still despite the fact that the procedure was not meant to take long, the time seemed to crawl and she could not even begin to imagine what Legolas was feeling during its execution. Fortunately, while the effects of the procedure were not immediate overt, Tory did notice after awhile the hoarseness of Legolas’ breathing easing slightly.

  


  


"This will have to do for now," Aaron announced after what seemed like an eternity of time.

  


  


"Is he going to be okay?" Fred asked, finally being allowed to face them now that Aaron had finished the treatment.

  


  


"It will take more than this to kill me, little one," Legolas muttered weakly but his pallor was still white and Tory could tell by the look in Aaron's eyes that the elf's condition was nowhere as improved, as Aaron would like.

  


  


"You'll be okay for now," Aaron said gazing at his best friend with a warm smile. "You still need a hospital but this should help you breathe a little better for the moment."

  


  


"I have every confidence in your ability, Aaron," Legolas met his eyes with sincere trust. "You have always seen to it that I live to breathe another day."

  


  


"Well I can't let you die," Aaron replied warmly, "who's going to get me out of trouble when I get into it?"

  


  


"That is for certain, I have often found it to be a full time occupation," Legolas agreed with a tired nod. 

  


  


Aaron felt a surge of warmth for the elf who had been his friend for longer than he had been alive on this earth. While Aaron remembered nothing about Aragorn Elessar's life, he did know without hesitation or doubt that their relationship was more than friendship, deeper than brotherhood. There was something terrible comforting in knowing that no matter what happened in their lives; they would always travel the same road together. When Aaron had lost Stuart, he had thought he had lost a brother but in meeting Legolas, he had found one again.

  


  


Aaron had no intention of losing once more.

  


  


**************

  


  


There was a curious period of calm in the time that elapsed when Eve and Bryan caught sight of the Uruks who had suddenly appeared in the corridor before them. Neither side reacted except to gape at each other. The Uruks, obviously not the creatures that Tory had encountered in the gestation chamber, were clothed in dark fatigue and carried guns. Despite the dull illumination in the corridors, Bryan and Eve were able to get their first real look at the army of creatures Saeran would use to rule the world if his New Order became a reality.

  


  


Aside from their weapons and clothing, the Uruks appeared to be fearsome and formidable race. All of them towered over Bryan and the Englishman had always considered himself tall. Next to the Uruks, Bryan felt positively slender. However, it was not merely their height that made them so imposing. With their dark skins, misshapen heads and animal like teeth, they were menacing to look at and the manic gleam in their eyes revealed their savage natures. These creatures liked to kill and he had a feeling they were very good at it. When he had encountered the Uruks in the cavern where he had rescued Tory, they had seemed aggressive but manageable. Now as he faced a dozen of them, Bryan did not want to imagine what an army of them would look like. 

  


  


For the moment however, these Uruks were dangerous enough and armed with Uzis, they were better prepared for a fight than either Bryan or Eve who had between them three bullets left in their guns. Hardly enough to survive when the momentary limbo between them came to an end. Bryan knew that when it did, he and Eve would be a great deal of trouble. What was worse, he could only think of _one_ thing to do.

  


  


"RUN!" Bryan ordered sharply as he grabbed Eve by the shoulder and ran in the opposite direction.

  


  


Their hasty departure elicited a cry of anticipation and excitement from the Uruks who gave immediate chase, spurned on by baser instincts and plain savagery. If they were soldiers with any kind of discipline, the Uruks would have realised that a single burst from their guns would have cut him and Eve down before they could even cross the hallway. Fortunately, their actions gave Bryan and Eve precious time to escape, as well as kindle the hope that Bryan could outsmart them to stay one step ahead of them. They may have been given some education in the use of modern weapons but in truth the Uruks were little more than armed thugs who could be outsmarted by a smarter enemy.

  


  


However, the Uruks soon realised their mistake and opened fire with their weapons just as Eve and Bryan rounded the corridor. The adjacent wall was soon riddled in the bullet holes with concrete fragments flying through the air, intermingling with the smoke that was thickening from the fires created by the explosion earlier. The clouds of grey obscured their departure but also made it difficult for the duo to gain some perspective on where they were headed. At the moment, Bryan could think of nothing more than returning to Tory and others, not to mention the cache of ammunition that they had left there. The reconnaissance that he and Eve had undertaken to begin with had evolved into a skirmish that neither was prepared for and they could not continue unarmed.

  


  


"Where are we going?" Eve shouted as more gunfire exploded around them. She could also hear the Uruks’ footsteps pounding against the paved floor as they followed in pursuit, as if their blazing guns were not enough to announce their presence.

  


  


"Presumably back to the others," Bryan answered as he looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but thick smoke. 

  


  


"I don’t think we’re going the right way," Eve declared.

  


  


Unfortunately, she was right. Bryan looked ahead and saw the smoke was becoming black instead of grey, indicating that they were nearing the source of the fire. However, it was not merely the smoke that lead him to believe this but also the heat being generated from the flames. It was becoming difficult to breathe but they could not turn back unless they wanted to be cut to pieces by the Uzis carried by the enemy. Eve felt Bryan’s hand around hers, ensuring that he did not lose her in the smoke. Something whizzed past her ear and she shuddered because she knew it was a bullet. However, no more came after it because the Uruks had stopped firing upon coming to the conclusion that their quarry would soon be driven out by the flames.

  


  


Bryan paused when the shooting had ceased. He stared ahead and saw through the swirling smoke that fire had consumed the upper corridor, having escaped through the partially demolished wall of the laboratory he had reduced to this chaos in their escape from the Nine. There was no way they could cross the distance without burning alive and as unpalatable as it seemed at the moment, it appeared they had no choice but to retreat. Retreat would almost certainly mean capture. Bryan hoped the Saeran had orders for them to be taken alive or else the surrender he and Eve had no choice but to make would end badly for both of them.

  


  


"Eve," Bryan met her gaze. Her eyes were watering because of the smoke but her expression indicated that she knew what he was going to say without his needing to speak the words. 

  


  


"I know," Eve swallowed thickly and nodded in understanding, "we gave them a good run."

  


  


"They may want us alive," Bryan said for her benefit even though he was realistic about their chances. Saeran had no use for them and thus no reason to keep them alive.

  


  


"They may," she said with a faint smile but there was an inordinate sadness in her face that understood that they could be marching to their deaths. However, her chin set with determination and Bryan felt a surge of affection for this woman who had become a trusted ally.

  


  


"Alright," he drew a deep breath and almost choked on it because most of what entered his lungs was smoke. "Let’s do this."

  


  


Eve nodded somberly and followed him as Bryan retraced their steps back the way they came. He had placed his hands at the back of his head and gestured to Eve to do the same. Hopefully, these Uruks would understand the universal sign of surrender and act accordingly. However Bryan did not hold out much hope of this and prayed that their deaths would be quick. He did not mind torture but he could not stomach it if they inflicted it upon Eve. Even if they survived such an ordeal, Bryan would never be able to look Aaron in the eye again. 

  


  


The smoke had thinned enough for their overture of surrender to be recognized by the Uruk Hai who immediately displayed their reaction at the enemy’s capture with loud growls of sneering triumph. Bryan saw Eve hardening her expression into stone, even though her eyes showed clearly her fear. He had a sense that she knew more about these creatures than he did and was more aware of what they were capable of. However, if they were expecting the Uruks to kill them outright, Bryan was rather surprised when the leader among them ordered his comrades to hold their fire. 

  


  


Apparently, Saeran _did_ want them alive. 

  


  


The leader of the Uruk who was at least a head taller than Bryan came towards the MI6 agent as the others swarmed around them. He circled Bryan with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes before lashing out with the butt of the Uzi against Bryan’s side. An involuntary grunt of pain escaped him as Bryan landed on his knees from the blow. However, Bryan would give him no more satisfaction then that. Disappointed, the Uruk Hai leader continued his posturing in order to engender a more animated response by delivering another blow between Bryan’s shoulder blades, sending him to the floor on his hands.

  


  


"Stop it you son of a bitch!" Bryan heard Eve shout through a haze of pain. 

  


  


Her outburst was followed by a sharp sound Bryan recognised immediately as knuckles striking flesh. The realisation snapped him to full alertness and he looked up just in time to see Eve hit the floor after being struck hard across the face. The power behind the Uruk Hai’s punch ensured that she would be unable to shirk it off as he had. Bryan saw the leader coming towards him, preparing to strike again when his anger at Eve’s treatment got the better of him. Kicking out his foot, he struck the advancing Uruk’s knee and dropped him to the ground. With lightning fast reflexes that gave the Uruk Hai little time to react, Bryan was on his feet and tearing the gun out of the leader’s hands before the others could collect themselves. Once he was armed, he jammed the barrel against the creature’s skull. 

  


  


"GET BACK!" Bryan shouted as he yanked back the Uruk leader’s head and paid special address to the Uruk Hai inching nearer to Eve. 

  


  


Bryan’s efforts gave new lease to Eve’s own instincts for survival and she recovered her senses quickly enough to give Bryan some assistance, despite the pain stinging at her cheek where she had been struck. Standing upright, she turned to the attacker whom had been forced to remain where he was because of Bryan’s threat and marched straight to him. Without saying a word, she planted her knee firmly in his groin and took his gun when he doubled over in pain.

  


  


"Nice work," Bryan gave her a smile of admiration, though their situation was nowhere safe yet.

  


  


"Thanks," Eve replied shortly, "you didn’t do too badly yourself."

  


  


"You’ll never get out of here alive!" The Uruk grunted, his voice was hoarse and almost like a growl.

  


  


"Belt up or you won’t make it out of this corridor alive," Bryan warned whilst dragging him to his feet. The Uruk still stood taller than him but the Uzi in Bryan’s hand was a great equalizer. Eve covered his back as Bryan forced him forward under the hateful glare of his comrades.

  


  


The rest of the Uruk Hai were snarling their protest at their leader being used as a hostage but they were even more enraged by the fact that the enemy was being allowed to escape. Bryan had this unsettling suspicion that they were even now debating whether or not their leader was worth the price of their quarry’s escape and could be willing to sacrifice him in order to recapture them. In either case, Bryan did not wish to remain long enough to find out what decision they reached.

  


  


"I don’t think they’re going to go for this," Eve said quietly, thinking the very same thing, her eyes fixed on them as she and Bryan ploughed their way through the creatures that were begrudgingly stepping aside for them. 

  


  


"Me neither," Bryan agreed. "Let’s just get to the other side of the corridor," he replied. "After that we can lose him."

  


  


They made their way slowly through the tall, orcish warriors, noting the rising dissent amongst them with each step they took further away. The Uruk Hai leader was snarling angrily but was held impotent by the gun aimed at his head. Bryan could see the effects their departure was having upon the others. Their fingers were tightening around the triggers, their bodies poised to act, Bryan had been in enough tense situations to know that things were about to go hell. 

  


  


And they were reaching critical with each step he and Eve took.

  


  


They neared the end of the corridor and a quick glance told Bryan that their way was clear. Bryan met Eve’s gaze and gave her the signal to run. The Uruks were disappearing out of sight but it would only take seconds to close the distance once the debate over the significance of their leader’s life was over. Eve raised the Uzi in readiness to fire when Bryan suddenly shoved the Uruk Hai leader away from him and turned to run.

  


  


"Now!" Bryan ordered as Eve released a hail of bullets from the weapon as the pursuing Uruks turned the corner. The deadly barrage forced them back and Bryan was halfway down the corridor when he halted and allowed Eve the chance to reach him. He covered her journey back to him in another hail of gunfire, giving them a precious few seconds of time where the Uruks were forced to take cover instead of closing the narrow gap between them. Once she was to him, they both hurried down the hallway, running as fast as they could as the enemy resumed their hunt once more. 

  


  


Fortunately, this time the smoke was not so thick and the hallways did not appear wholly unfamiliar. He had some sense of where they were headed this time and turned another corner when suddenly; he saw Gandalf and Haldir in the corridor. The elf was already arming his bow when the first of the Uruk Hai became visible and with the skill Bryan was certain that no Olympic class archer could match, released his arrows with deadly accuracy. 

  


  


The first three Uruks that rounded the corner died where they fell, creating stumbling blocks for those who followed. In the face of their confusion, Eve had halted and emptied another barrage of bullets at the advancing enemy. Their bodies were jerked spasmodically as the combination of bullets and arrows tore through their bodies. Bryan paused and added his fire to Eve and Haldir’s and suddenly the dozen Uruk Hai were reduced to three. The others had become corpses on the ground. Deciding that they would prefer better odds, the remaining Uruk Hai retreated for the moment but Bryan was certain they would be back in greater numbers.

  


  


"That was a timely bit of rescue," Bryan replied gratefully.

  


  


"I would hardly call that a rescue," Gandalf shrugged but appeared happy to see them nonetheless. "It appears to me that we merely gave you an opportunity to act."

  


  


"We came to find you," Haldir replied, eager to return to the others. He had not liked leaving Legolas even though it caused him no end of annoyance to know that he was terribly worried about the Prince’s welfare.

  


  


"What’s happened?" Bryan asked.

  


  


"It is Legolas," Gandalf answered, hiding his concern for the welfare of the archer. "His injury is far worse than previously thought. Aaron was forced to treat him immediately or risk letting him die."

  


  


"We better get back to him," Eve said automatically. "If anyone stumbles across him while he’s treating Legolas…"

  


  


"I know," Bryan stopped her from finishing the sentence and decided it was better not to waste any talking about it when they ought to be moving. "We better get back to them before they get into any more trouble."

  


  


After everything else that had transpired in the last hour, Bryan wanted to leave nothing to chance.

  


  


 

  


************

  


  


His quarry was close.

  


  


Saeran could sense her nearby and wondered if she could sense his approach. For years, he had amused himself by tormenting the child in her sleep but he could not deny the delicious pleasure of being able to see the fear in his eyes for himself was very satisfying indeed. As long as the soul of Frodo Baggins was within his reach, Saeran was determined to make this incarnation and every other that showed itself in the world throughout the ages, pay for what the hobbit had done. Fred was too young to understand that it would not end with her death, that he intended to pursue the soul of the Ringbearer until the end of the time.

  


  


For now however, he had business with one other who had earned his hatred just as deeply as the Ringbearer and for whom Saeran had waited just as long time to meet. Unlike Fredrica Bailey, there was no connection between them, no way for Saeran to torment as he had done to the child in her dreams. However, they were still bound together nonetheless. The sword in his hand saw to it. 

  


  


The weapon which he carried as he made his way through the network of corridors beneath his domain had come to him in the summer of 1845 in Vienna. While Malcolm had cultivated his interests in America, Saeran had kept his eye firmly upon Europe and took especial pride in hindering anyway he could, the development of Austria and Germany, the nations built on the lands that had once been the kingdom of Gondor. In Austria, he had ensured the ascendancy of Clemens von Metternich to Chancellor, an extreme conservative who believed that the only way to ensure that the stability of the Austrian Empire was to suppress revolutionary ideas by any means possible. Of course Clemens was nowhere as gifted as Adolf Hitler, some eighty years later, but Saeran could only work with what clay was available.

  


  


The sword had been languishing in a Prussian museum, apparently found by an archaeologist who believed he had unearthed the tomb of an ancient warlord or nobleman somewhere in the southern wilderness. While the tomb and the body had been lost to erosion and weathering, the weapon had remained intact and the museum curator believed it was forged somewhere in the Dark Ages. Had radiocarbon dating been available in those days, the man would have discovered that the weapon was perhaps the oldest one of its kind in existence, that it dated back to the days when the Austrian Empire had been apart of Reunified Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor.

  


  


Metternich had been more than happy to make the sword a gift when Saeran had inquired after it. The Chancellor was no fool. He knew the price of refusal. He had presented the weapon to Saeran as if he had made some magnanimous gift, not realising that if he had not, Saeran would have simply sent the Nine to retrieve anyway. The sword like the Ringbearer was something that he was determined to have in his possession, although he had never thought he would have ever have the good fortune of reuniting the weapon with its former master. However, fate had an odd sense of humour because the same man who had rid him of John Malcolm was also the master of the sword Anduril. 

  


  


The sword, forged from the shards of Narsil, the blade that cut the ring from Sauron’s finger. His finger.

  


  


"Come with me," Saeran barked at the trio of Uruk Hai when he encountered them in the smoking corridor. The creatures obeyed without question, falling behind their master as he resumed his journey through the passage.

  


  


Smoke cleared out of Saeran’s way, bleeding past him in thin clouds of grey. Saeran’s course led him to the corridor blazing with fire thanks to the mischief of his trespassers. The Uruks behind him hesitated slightly as he neared the flames but Saeran did not pause in his advance. As he approached, a great gust of wind preceded him, sweeping through the narrow passage, with such force that the fire was extinguished like a flame being snuffed out on a candle. Within seconds, the tongues of orange had subsided, leaving only walls charred black. Tendrils of smoke hissed around him as Saeran strode through the blackened corridor, oblivious to the destruction because his mind was fixed upon on his prey. Nothing else mattered.

  


  


*********

  


  


"We must leave now," Legolas suddenly exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency.

  


  


The elf was still very weak but he was in better condition now than he was a short time ago, Aaron was happy to say. Although his breathing was still strained, it was nowhere as laboured as before which gave Aaron confidence that he would be able to go without medical treatment for a few more hours. The smoke that had filled the air had abated slightly and Aaron wondered if Saeran had some kind of sprinkler system the way Malcolm’s Monolith had. In any case, the doctor wanted to move Legolas somewhere else before setting out to find what had become of the others.

  


  


"Why?" Aaron asked automatically, having become so accustomed to Legolas’ elf senses that he no longer questioned it or its accuracy.

  


  


"He is coming," Legolas stated without hesitation or doubt. "The darkness I feel coming towards us can be none other. It is Sauron."

  


  


"Can you stand?" Aaron asked sliding his arm around Legolas’, not wishing to waste time by asking useless questions. If Legolas said that Sauron was coming, then Aaron believed him. "Tory, keep Fred close."

  


  


"I am," Tory answered clutching Fred’s hand to ensure the girl was close by. The little girl had fallen silent and the apprehension Tory could see reflected in her eyes told her that whatever it was Legolas was sensing, Fred could feel it too. Glancing down the passage leading to their refuge, Tory could see no evidence of anyone coming but as she had learnt since all this had began, nothing was what it appeared to be. 

  


  


"I can move," Legolas said standing upright with some assistance from Aaron. He was in pain but they could not remain here, not when the threat he could sense was looming ever closer. "Give me my bow."

  


  


"You’re in no condition to shoot anyone," Aaron said automatically.

  


  


"Aaron, you do not understand," Legolas stared at him. "Morgoth did not know you but Sauron _does_. You are the heir of Isildur who cut the One Ring from his finger and it was _you_ , Aragorn Elessar who lead the forces of man against Mordor in the War of the Ring. He hates you almost as much as he hates the Ringbearer."

  


  


Aaron shuddered a little, not because he was afraid of David Saeran but because he saw fear in Legolas’ eyes. In all the time he had known Legolas, Aaron had never seen him fear anything. His anxiety made Aaron reach for the gun he had forgotten about while he had been treating the elf. 

  


  


"Alright," he conceded, reaching for the bow of Galadhrim and handing it back to its master. "Just do me a favor and take it easy. If this guy wants me, he’s going to get me because you can’t put an arrow into him until Bryan gets here."

  


  


Legolas met his gaze sharply and disbelief, "Aaron, he could kill you."

  


  


"Yeah but me dying won’t end our chances of saving the several billion people he’s going to kill if we don’t stop him with our plan," Aaron reminded, trying to sound brave even though he was not.

  


  


"I do not know whether I can sit by and watch him kill you," Legolas replied earnestly, real anguish on his face. 

  


  


"Neither can I Aaron," Tory added her voice to the mix, understanding all too well the difficulty Legolas was feeling. "You have to protect yourself."

  


  


"We can’t do anything," Aaron repeated himself firmly, "not until Bryan gets here."

  


  


Legolas did not answer him. The elf had suddenly gone still and Aaron knew by the look in his eyes, that something had changed or someone had come.

  


  


"Its too late," Legolas confirmed his suspicions with a grave expression, "he is here."

  


  


Aaron turned around just as the shadow of David Saeran preceded his entry into the chamber by a fraction of a second. He raised his gun, fully prepared to empty the entire contents of his gun into the dark lord’s human body when he realized with utter despair that he could not. Killing David Saeran would effectively eliminate any chance they had of stopping the enemy from turning the world into a nuclear cinder. 

  


  


"Shoot him!" Tory shouted as Saeran appeared before them in the flesh.

  


  


"I can’t!" Aaron hissed angrily, wishing he could, but to pull the trigger was to ensure what he had seen in Galadriel’s mirror would become a reality as surely as if he had launched the nuclear arsenal himself. 

  


  


Legolas slumped against the wall he was standing; shaking in frustration because Aaron was right and it may well cost him his life because of it.

  


  


David Saeran did not seem surprised when he entered the small chamber and saw Aaron Stone pointing at gun at him but appeared unable to fire. In the light of the chamber, the dark lord seemed to cast larger than life shadows but then the Saeran was a favorite of the dark. He lived his life in it and relished the power given to him by the shadow world. In it, he was in his element and as he faced the enemies he had sought so long to destroy, he had never felt more grateful to feel its power running through his veins.

  


  


"Go ahead Aaron, shoot me," Saeran said with a knowing smile as the three Uruk Hai entered the room, taking up flanking positions next to their master. 

  


  


"Don’t tempt me," Aaron returned in a low voice but whether or not Saeran knew it, his threat was an empty one.

  


  


"Temptation is at the heart of what I do, Aaron," Saeran replied smoothly before staring at Aaron with concentration.

  


  


"Aaron!" Tory cried out as she saw Aaron being flung backwards across the room by some unseen force. 

  


  


Aaron was thrown hard against the wall, losing the grip on his gun as the back of his skull slapped against the stone and his entire body shuddered in pain at the forceful meeting of flesh and stone. There was no time to even utter a groan because it felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of his lungs upon impact. There no time for anything _but_ the pain and before he knew it, he was falling to the to ground like a rag doll. Aaron landed on the floor hard, his head swimming with disorientation as he felt warm blood on the back of his head and in his mouth. 

  


  


Despite the severity of his injuries, Legolas was not about to let the attack upon Aaron go unanswered and reacted with more speed that should have been possible for someone in his condition. Aaron had barely hit the wall before the elven archer was arming his bow and shooting an arrow, hardly caring that a lucky shot could possibly jeopardize their chances of thwarting Saeran’s dark plans for the world. All he could think of was that his friend was under attack and Saeran could easily kill them all without much effort. Unfortunately, this was proven all too true when the dark lord deflected the arrow with the sword in his possession, even one as skillfully delivered by the former prince of Mirkwood. The blade sliced the arrow in half before it could reach him, the pieces dropping harmlessly at his feet. 

  


  


"I would have thought that a brat of Thranduil’s would be capable of providing me with more challenge than that," Saeran sneered as he regarded Legolas with derision.

  


  


"I am more than capable for the likes of you Sauron," Legolas returned coldly. 

  


  


"You amuse me, the lot of you," Saeran shook his head in disgust as he swept his gaze over his supposed enemies. "You come here into _my_ domain and think that I am unprepared for you? What sort of fool do you take me for? You may have succeeded against me once but not again. I have learnt from my past misfortunes and this time, it will be different, I promise you that."

  


  


With that, he turned to the Uruk Hai in attendance and gave them leave to proceed with a slight nod. The creatures promptly moved to restrain Legolas and Aaron who were in no condition to offer them any real resistance. 

  


  


"Stop it!" Tory cried in protest out when she saw one of the Uruks slamming Legolas’ skull against the wall knocking the already weakened elf out cold. The Uruk caught him before he slid to the floor, while the other slammed the butt of his rifle into the back of Aaron’s head, putting him in a similar state of unconsciousness.

  


  


Saeran turned to her as if he had noticed Tory for the first time and as he cast his attention upon her, she suddenly wished she had remained silent. The scathing glare he cast in her direction was enough to wither away her courage into nothingness. Even though Tory had no memory of Middle Earth and knew nothing of Sauron, when she saw the cold flint of his eyes staring at her, she could almost see the dark creature that he was beneath the mask of flesh. Saeran’s gaze lingered on Tory briefly before he turned his attention to Fred who had started to cry at the sheer terror of being in the man’s power again. Without warning, Saeran swung his fist and struck Tory with a powerful blow that sent her sprawling.

  


  


"Tory!" Fred screamed as Tory fell boneless to the ground and did not move again. 

  


  


"I told you," Saeran glowered, tearing Fred away from Tory’s side and forcing her to look at him, "We will be spending a great deal of time together. If you run from me again, I will kill them all. Do you understand?"

  


  


Fred stared at Saeran with wide eyes, brimming with tears. Through her sobs, she managed to stutter a response. "Yes," she answered. 

  


  


"Good, I’m glad we understand each other," he said straightening up. Saeran started out of the room with Fred securely in his grasp before pausing briefly to look over his shoulder at the Uruks waiting for his command. 

  


  


"Bring them," he ordered before disappearing into the shadows once again. 

  


  


***********

  


  


The minute Bryan was faced with that empty space where his friends should have been, he knew that they had returned too late.

  


  


Eve seemed lost as she drifted into the confines of the dark chamber, illuminated by Gandalf’s staff. The policewoman lowered herself to Aaron’s open medical bag and ran her palm gently across the worn leather, almost as if she touching it would bring her closer to him somehow. Bryan saw the tough mask evaporate and in its place was pure vulnerable emotion. Eve was trying not to let her fears for Aaron get the better of her but the glistening pools of her sapphire eyes reflected nothing else. 

  


  


Whatever had happened here to overcome their friends had transpired quickly. There was no scent of gunpowder in the air which meant Aaron and Tory probably never even got a round off at their attackers. The only sign of violence was the arrow on the floor, split in half by something very sharp, like a sword. Haldir was examining the pieces, his expression grave because he knew as well as Bryan that Legolas had tried to fight back and failed. Bryan’s own attention was fixed upon the dark spot on the ground. He kneeled down to examine and was unsurprised when he discovered what it was. He supposed there was some consolation in there being only a small amount of it though that offered him little comfort. 

  


  


"Its blood isn’t it?" Eve asked, having seen enough crime scenes in her life to know what it looked like.

  


  


"Yeah," Bryan nodded somberly because he knew of ways to kill that did not require any blood being spilt.

  


  


"He has them," Haldir retorted with a heavy sigh. "This arrow was split in half by a sword and I seriously doubt that any of the Uruks had the skill to do this."

  


  


"It was not the Uruks," Gandalf said with equal gravity in his voice, "it was Sauron. This place reeks of his presence. He took part in the capture of our friends personally."

  


  


"We’ll expect us to go after them," Eve declared. "He knows we won’t leave without them."

  


  


"It will be a trap," Haldir said meeting Gandalf’s gaze. "Sauron will be waiting for us."

  


  


"We must proceed," Gandalf returned. "I have no wish to see any harm come to the others but we must press on. It is more than just their lives at stake."

  


  


"How can you say that?" Eve demanded, unwilling to sacrifice Aaron for anything.

  


  


"Because he’s right," Bryan said quietly. "We go on as Aaron planned."

  


  


"What?" Eve stared at him.

  


  


"We go on as planned because that’s the only chance we have of bloody well saving any of them!" He returned with just as much vehemence. "It doesn’t matter whether or not it is a trap! We need to reach Saeran before we can do anything! If it is a trap, he’ll need them alive as bait! He can’t kill them, not without Gandalf knowing, am I right?" Bryan glanced quickly at the Istar for confirmation.

  


  


"Bryan is correct," Gandalf nodded. "I would know."

  


  


"Eve," Bryan placed his hands on her shoulders, "we have to do it this way because we don’t have any other choice. Aaron’s plan is the only way we have to stop Saeran, even he would agree with this."

  


  


Eve closed her eyes as she wrestled with her emotions. He was right and she knew it but the thought of losing Aaron was like the light draining from her world, something she could not even begin to imagine. However, she had to pull herself together despite her fears of losing her. She had to because she would be no good to Aaron otherwise.

  


  


"Okay," she nodded slowly, composing herself a little better. "We’ll continue with Aaron’s plan."

  


  


"That’s my girl," Bryan said with a smile, planting a small kiss on her forehead. "I knew you wouldn’t let me down."

  


  


"Yeah, yeah," she retorted, not at all confident about their chances. "So, now that we’re decided what we’re going to do, you want to explain how we’re going to do it?"

  


  


"Well that’s easy enough," he shrugged meeting Gandalf’s gaze, "if he’s setting a trap for us. We shouldn’t disappoint him."

  


  


************

  


  


It was the sunrise that awoke Aaron Stone.

  


  


It peeked over the mountains, a crack of light against the range of the Carpathian Mountains, gaping at him through the open balcony doors, even though the sky around it was still bathed in darkness. It was still twilight but the dawn was rapidly approaching and as the light caught his eyes, Aaron felt reality returning to him with similar clarity. He could still taste the salt of blood in his mouth and the pain on the back of his skull had rescinded thankfully into a dull throb. However, for most part he was relatively in good condition.

  


  
  
The promise of impending sunrise had roused him from his unconscious state and with wakefulness came the realisation that he was laying against a cold, hard, floor. Blinking his eyes into focus, he saw the flat plain of a marble floor before him. Adjusting his vision to take in a wider scope of his surroundings, Aaron’s gaze soon reached Legolas who was lying flat on his back, in a similar state of slumber. He could tell by the rise and fall of the elf’s chest that Legolas still lived but his mind was soon crowded with thoughts regarding the fate of the others. Where were Tory and Fred?

  


  


"I’m glad to see you’re still with us Aaron," Saeran’s voice sliced through the dark.

  


  


Hearing Saeran caused Aaron’s adrenaline to rush through his veins and the doctor was suddenly alert, searching for the dark lord whose captive, he so obviously was. Even though the dawn was fast approaching the horizon, the room was still shrouded in amber light. Light fixtures resembling those found in nineteen century mansions, with ornate bronze holders and glass teardrops dangling like a mini-chandelier exuded enough illumination for Aaron to see his surroundings but not very clearly. 

  


  


Apparently, David Saeran preferred the shadows. 

  


  


Saeran himself was sitting at something that resembled a throne and Aaron found himself thinking that being a dark lord came with its own case of severe megalomania. Saeran was perched upon his throne, with Fred seated at one side of his feet while a dark haired beauty Aaron did not recognise sat at the other. Tory lay near Legolas, starting to reach consciousness, thanks to Saeran’s voice. The only reason Legolas was not the first among them to awake was because he was injured and Aaron prayed that the reason for his continued slumber was not because his condition was worsening beyond Aaron’s ability to treat.

  


  


"I am being rude," Saeran continued to speak but this time he was addressing the woman next to him. "I should introduce you two, professional people and all. Irina, meet Doctor Aaron Stone, formerly of the New York Psychiatric hospital before he became a wanted fugitive I believe."

  


  


"This is the man who brought down John Malcolm?" She responded after staring at him with great scrutiny, "I find that hard to believe."

  


  


"I find it hard to believe that you can sit there like his lap dog when he’s about to turn to bring down nuclear Armageddon," Aaron found himself saying in return.

  


  


"A god has the right to reshape the world as he sees fit," Irina replied as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

  


  


"He’s not a god," Aaron stated and saw that unflappable mask waver slightly as the deification of her lord and master was questioned. It dawned on him that she truly believed Saeran was some kind of god and found himself adding to test the depth of his theory, "he never was."

  


  


"He is a god!" She said sharply, rising to her feet. 

  


  


"Calm yourself Irina," Saeran spoke automatically, somewhat amused by her reaction. "I am not a god but I am not quite a man either. It appears that we are none of us what we seem are we Aaron?"

  


  


"Well if you mean that you’re a Valar errand boy with delusions of grandeur, then I would have to agree," Aaron retorted, trying to distract himself from paying too much attention to the reverential treatment Saeran was affording the sword in his grasp.

  


  


"I cannot deny what I was but we both have our secrets don’t we Aaron? Or should I call you Aragorn?" Saeran met his gaze sharply.

  


  


"Aragorn?" Irina asked puzzled. "Who is Aragorn?"

  


  


"Aragorn Elessar," Saeran stood up and made his way towards Aaron, "King of Gondor, the hero of the War of the Ring, Thorongil to the people of Rohan, Strider to everyone else. The elves called you Estel I believe."

  


  


"That was another man," Aaron replied, feeling distinctly uncomfortable that Saeran could not see him as anything else. 

  


  


"The soul does not change Aaron," Saeran said with surprising emotion in his voice as he paused in front of Aaron. "The shell of flesh and bone is transitory but the soul remains and while it breathes, the man whatever the age, remains the same. You are Aragorn Elessar, you look like him and judging by the way you dealt so masterfully with Melkor, you think as he did."

  


  


"I would have thought you wouldn’t be happy that I screwed things up for Malcolm," Aaron said unable to deny being taken back by Saeran’s complement.

  


  


"Why shouldn’t I be?" Saeran asked. "Do you have any idea how long I served that fool? All he knew how to do was tell everyone that he was a god and expect to be obeyed. If it weren’t for me and the demons he created at Angband, Feanor and the Noldor would have mounted his head on a pike for the theft of the Silmarils. Not that he was much use after he got his hands on it. All he would do is leave the work to me and gaze at the stupid thing like a child with a new toy. If there was Hallmark back in those days, the Valar would have got a thank you card from me for sending him to the Void."

  


  


"So I guess it really burned when he got brought back first," Aaron declared, prompting Saeran to keep talking. In truth, it was an effort to buy time because he had faith that Gandalf and Bryan were trying to reach them even as he was forced to sit here and endure this audience with Saeran who obviously wanted to gloat over his apparent victory. He had to believe or else, he Tory, Fred and Legolas was as good as dead.

  


  


"I mean who knew that crazy cultists could come up with a spell to raise him?" Aaron added.

  


  


"The spell was mine!" Saeran snapped angrily. "I was the greatest sorcerer of my time. Do you think after what happened to Melkor at the hands of the Valar that I wouldn’t take precautions to ensure that if anything similar happened to me that I would be able to escape? I created the spell of resurrection after Melkor was sent to the Void but it was not meant to be used to raise him, it was to be used for me. Imagine my surprise when I returned to the mortal coil and found myself serving my former master."

  


  


"I guess something got lost in the translation," Aaron said sarcastically. 

  


  


"However, I have you to thank for riding me of him," Saeran answered with a smile as he raised the sword to Aaron’s neck. For a moment, the blade lingered between them, its sharp point resting against Aaron’s throat. 

  


  


Aaron felt the cold steel biting into his skin but refused to show Saeran any fear. H would not give the bastard the satisfaction. He glanced sideways and saw that Legolas was awake and staring at him, uncertain of what to do. The elf’s pallor had become grey and Aaron knew that if he did not get help soon, he would die in this terrible place. In any case, Legolas was in no position to be of any help to him at this moment. 

  


  


"If you want to show gratitude, you’re going to have to do better than that," Aaron said in a strained breath.

  


  


Saeran’s expression broke into a grin before he lowered the sword, "if nothing else Aaron, you have courage. It will be an absolute pleasure breaking you."

  


  


"It is pleasure torturing a little girl?" Tory asked, entering the conversation unexpectedly.

  


  


Both men turned their eyes to the barrister who was staring at them, a large bruise across her cheek where Saeran had struck her. Tory’s gaze shifted between them and Fred who was still seated at the foot of Saeran’s throne, too frightened to move after Saeran’s threat to kill those she loved if she made any effort to escape. 

  


  


"The pleasure is that she will be a young woman one day," Saeran said turning to Tory as if her sudden entry into the conversation had not surprised him in the least. "As a child she will know fear, as a woman, the possibilities are endless. I will never be as grateful as the day I found out that Ringbearer was born into this time as a _woman_. The pleasure I will have from her utter and complete torment over the next sixty years may almost compensate me for the _one hundred thousand years_ I spent trapped in the hell the Ringbearer sent me to when he destroyed my property!" 

  


  


"You sick son of a bitch!" Aaron lashed out as the full implications of Saeran’s plans for Fred dawned upon him. His fist struck Saeran across the cheek but he victory was hollow because the next thing he knew, Tory was flying through the air, spinning in mid-flight before she hit the marble floor hard.

  


  


"You promised!" Fred screamed at Saeran. "You promised you wouldn’t hurt her if I didn’t run away!" 

  


  


"I promised I wouldn’t kill her, I didn’t say anything about making her bleed a little," Saeran answered the child in a gentle voice. "In any case, you can blame Aaron for this."

  


  


"You bastard," Aaron spat angrily but could do no more than that because if he moved against Saeran again, Tory or even Legolas would pay for his crime. 

  


  


"Sticks and stones Aaron," Saeran replied as he raised the sword to Aaron’s chest once more. "I suggest you save your strength until the others arrive. I am really looking forward to meeting Bryan Miller."

  


  


"I seriously doubt it," Aaron muttered under his breath, perfectly aware that when Bryan and Saeran met face to face, it would not be as amicable a meeting as this.

  


  


One of them would die.

  



	17. Chapter Fifteen: Armageddon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

If they were going to walk into the trap David Saeran had set for them, Bryan Miller was determined to return the favour with a surprise of his own.

  


  


After all the chaos created following the destruction of the laboratory in their bid to escape the Nine earlier, Bryan and Eve had ensured that the premises beneath Saeran's castle was more or less devoid of people except for the Uruk Hai who were hunting them. Despite Gandalf's desire to continue their journey to Saeran, Bryan had convinced the wizard to give him an hour while he took a detour to one of the unattended labs that had not been damaged by the explosion. Even Eve was a little confused by his request but Bryan's reasons for delaying their advance to Saeran was for a good reason. 

  


  


It was more or less a foregone conclusion that Saeran was expecting them to rescue Aaron and the others. They were _all_ realistic about that. However, Bryan was not averse to delivering a swift kick in Saeran's complacent hide if it meant that he could reach the others without endangering the lives of all his companions. Fortunately, the laboratory environment ensured that he would have all the supplies he needed and some of which he had discovered were an unexpected surprise. The nature of the research being undertaken on these premises saw the need for some rather unorthodox and volatile substances for testing that had ensured Bryan could still give David Saeran a surprise even if the man was expecting him.

  


  


During his time in the service one of his responsibilities had been in the area of munitions and demolition, which meant a working knowledge of explosives and their construction. Although he did not look it, Bryan had a strong background in chemistry during his academic years and one of the reasons he had been chosen for the duty was because of his natural aptitude for them. It had been a while since he had been called on to do what he was now undertaking within the abandoned laboratory with Eve’s assistance, but Bryan was surprised at how easily it had all come back to him. Meanwhile, Gandalf and Haldir watched with growing interest what he was doing, despite their eagerness to rescue the others.

  


  


They watched as Bryan and Eve worked diligently at the workbench, moving back and forth from the concoction they had been making for the last half hour. At first the elf had been contented to watch while the two humans put together the ingredients of their potion, which included water, salt and what appeared to some kind of washing soap. The care in which Bryan was taking as he handled the ingredients gave Haldir some idea that what the human was making was extremely dangerous and the beads of sweat running down Eve's brow as she helped him was similarly telling. What was more intriguing was that the entire thing had to be mixed in receptacle of water that contained ice as if keeping the temperature low was tantamount to the process.

  


  


Finally, Haldir could bear it no more and had to ask, "what are you making?"

  


  


"A whole lot of distraction," Eve remarked as she stepping back as she saw Bryan draining the acid water solution as gently as possible. After she took the step back she wondered why she bothered, the quantities that Bryan was handling would ensure that if it unexpectedly detonated, none of them would leave the room alive.

  


  


"That's it," Bryan said to Eve's utmost relief when he was finally done. "That should be enough to take out this entire floor."

  


  


The MI6 agent had stepped away from the contents of the large beaker, staring a moment at the solution as if sight alone could help him determine the stability of the substance he had created. In truth, he had intended to make some simple plastic explosives but the discovery of sulphuric acid for whatever reason a laboratory would need such dangerous chemicals, had set his mind hurtling towards a grander plan. 

  


  
  
"What do you intend to do with it now?" Gandalf asked him. The wizard could sense the danger of the substance but was uncertain how it could be used to help them.

  


  


"Leave it the bloody hell alone and get out of here," Bryan replied, "I'm lucky I didn't kill us all playing with this but when it works, Saeran will definitely be caught off guard."

  


  


"Can we go now?" Eve asked, not wanting to be in the room with the stuff any longer than she had to be.

  


  
  
"Good idea," Bryan nodded and looked up at the others, "we should get a move on."

  


  


"We are just going to leave that here?" Haldir stared at him in confusion, unable to believe that was their course after the time spent producing the solution.

  


  


"We're certainly not taking it with us," Bryan said adding the finishing touch to the makeshift explosive. He had built the small device with a 9 volt battery from one of their torches, circuit board from a piece of equipment he had taken apart in the lab and his digital watch. Setting it quickly, he retreated from the bench a moment later and joined Eve, who was prompted the others out of the room, after he had retrieved his gun.

  


  


"I do not understand," Haldir shook his head in genuine confusion.

  


  


Bryan did not answer and continued the exodus out of the room. Haldir would have explanation enough when the time came and Bryan had no wish to begin an in depth explanation of modern explosive. Besides, he had a feeling it would only earn him another disapproving stare from the elf about the destructive nature of men. Considering that he had given them exactly twenty-five minutes to put suitable distance between themselves and this the contents of the beaker, he supposed Haldir was not far wrong. 

  


  


Still, nitroglycerine was a great surprise.

  


  


************

  


  


In the wilderness of North Dakota, Walter Green ignored the flaring light on the panel that indicated that the telephone was ringing. 

  


  


When he had first seized control of the LCC after the deaths of the two men left in charge of the underground bunker, the phone had rang constantly until Green's patience had worn away and he had activated the mute function to dull the noise. However, in place of the ringing he was now tormented by the constant pulsing of light as upper echelons of the military tried desperately to contact him. He knew what they wanted of course but he was unable to oblige him. They could not possibly understand what he was going through, the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the Chinese bastards who turned his love for Elizabeth into a spy room joke. They would try and tell him that he needed to be reasonable but Green did not want to be reasonable. He wanted to make them pay with a lesson that would never be forgotten.

  


  


Besides, he had work to do and if he stopped to answer the phone, he would not be able to finish it in time. While it was necessary to kill the two man crew that had be in command of the LCC when he had first arrived, Walter was painfully aware that it required both of them to conduct a launch. The keys he had liberated from there useless unless he was able to use them simultaneously. Fortunately, he knew this installation intimately and he had the skills necessary to run an effective bypass that would delay the response of the first key for approximately five seconds and give him enough time to reach the second so that both activations would coincide simultaneously. 

  


  


It was time for the Chinese to receive his vengeance and with the arsenal that was now in his power; it would be a lasting lesson indeed.

  


  


**************

  


  


Dawn was fast approaching. 

  


  


It had been distant earlier but now it was making it way over the mountains, fraying the blanket of twilight with more strands of light. He knew the coming of the new day meant very little in the scheme of things but if the world was doomed to descend into a new dark age then Aaron wanted to see the sun rise one last time before that terrible ending. He also knew that if the world were ignited by the cataclysm of nuclear fire, then it would also be the last sunrise for almost everyone else in the room. Considering the aftermath, Aaron was not entirely certain that was such a bad thing. He did not want to see the vision of Galadriel's mirror become a reality, no more than he wished to live knowing he had failed to prevent any of it.

  


  


David Saeran had retreated to his throne once more, taking up position like the dark entity he was. The woman Irina was watching them closely while Saeran's attention was elsewhere. The former Lord of Mordor appeared to be meditating and it took no clairvoyance on Aaron's part to know that he was communing with his agents in the real world, whispering words of malice that had turned them into his puppets, with no idea what they were doing. Aaron wondered if they were Saeran's permanently or would there be freedom once the terrible deed was done. He pitied them if that was the case because he could not imagine waking up from a nightmare where _he_ was the monster.

  


  


"How are you doing?" Aaron asked, having crawled to Legolas since Saeran had forgotten him for the moment 

  


  


"I am well," Legolas managed a weak reply but his pallor was turning grey and Aaron knew that his punctured lung was filling up with blood again. This time, a thoracentesis would not help him. Legolas needed a hospital. 

  


  


"You are a terrible liar," Aaron pointed out with a smile before his expression sobered. "Try and hang on. The others are on their way, I know it."

  


  
  
"I hope so," Tory said in a low voice. When she had regained consciousness after Saeran's attack, she had been allowed to wait for the others since Saeran could not allow control over his pawns to waver for long periods. She was seated on the floor next to Legolas, hugging her knees beneath her chin as she kept watch over Fred, wishing she could do something to alleviate the terrible fear haunting the child's eyes. 

  


  


"Poor kid is terrified out of her mind," Aaron remarked, following her gaze. He was not blind to the relationship the two had formed since Bryan had entrusted Fred to her care. Although Tory and Stuart had never spoken about children, Bryan knew she had wanted them. Fortunately, Tory was sensible enough to recognise that a child did not solve the problems of a troubled marriage and so motherhood was something that she had yet to experience. However, seeing her with Fred convinced Aaron that she would make a good parent when she was ready.

  


  


"If he hurts her…" Tory warned and the gleam of menace in her eyes was very reminiscent of the primeval she wolf protecting her cubs. 

  


  


"It won't come to that," Aaron stated firmly because Tory needed to believe that.

  


  


Tory did not answer and Aaron supposed that there would be no assurance he could make that would rest her fears for the child, not until Fred was within reach again. He tried to focus on their present predicament and found that once again, his attention drifted to the sword that was leaning against Saeran's throne, catching the dawn in the smooth polish of its blade. There was something about it being at Saeran's side that disturbed him to no end, like a small thorn burrowing it way into the skin. 

  


  
  
"It looks familiar does it not?" Legolas asked with a knowing smile.

  


  


"What?" Aaron replied not really listening.

  


  


"The sword," his old friend gestured towards the blade.

  


  


"I suppose," Aaron shrugged, feeling a little foolish that his mind lingered on a sword considering their dire situation at present. 

  


  


"I can't imagine why he would need the thing," Tory remarked, "he was able to knock us both out without raising a hand and since his girlfriend is armed, it seems a little redundant."

  


  


"He does not wield it for protection," Legolas sighed. "He wields it as an insult to you Aaron."

  


  


Aaron did not speak for a moment because he was thinking deeply about the feelings engendered in him when he saw Saeran with the blade in his hands. Something inside him balked at the idea that so elegant a weapon should be in the possession of a dark lord and then there was the way Saeran had held it to his neck. Aaron had seen a flicker in the man’s eyes as if he was challenging more than just Aaron’s beliefs about himself and his life, as if there was something else that he had wanted Aaron to see. Now that Legolas had brought it up, Aaron understood what Saeran had been trying to do.

  


  


"It was once mine wasn’t it?" Aaron met his gaze.

  


  


"Yes," Legolas nodded, "he wields Anduril, the sword of Aragorn Elessar. It was forged from the shards of Narsil, the blade that cut the One Ring from his finger. That is the sword of Aragorn’s kingship. It is your sword."

  


  
  
"When he’s ready," Aaron met their eyes, "he’s going to kill us with it."

  


  


Unfortunately, Legolas could say nothing to disagree with that assertion because Aaron was right. 

  


  


"Then what’s he waiting for?" Tory hissed, she was never one who could play the waiting game for too long. 

  


  


The answer for her question coincided with a burst of gunfire that made everyone in the room jump, everyone that is Saeran. He was still deep in meditation when the familiar rat-tat-tat of a gunfight penetrated the room beyond the doors and returned him from whatever psychic limbo he was currently manipulating. At the sound, Saeran raised his head and opened his eyes.

  


  


"That," Aaron said grimly. "He was waiting for that."

  


  


 

  


************

  


  


Time was pressing heavily against Bryan as they made their way up the spiral staircase, leaving behind at last the network of tunnels that they had lingered too long already. Their journey to the main heart of Saeran’s castle after leaving behind the laboratory had seen encounters with Uruk Hai that ended in a blaze of gunfire and arrows. The Uruks as Bryan had suspected were largely undisciplined thugs with guns and despite the danger of being outgunned, Bryan, Eve and Haldir were able to push through the obstacles intent on making their advance to Saeran as difficult as possible. 

  


  


Bryan knew that their lives depended on getting out of the corridors as quickly as possible. Even now, the countdown he had set on the timer attached to the nitroglycerine bomb he and Eve had built was ticking away their margin of safety. It would not be long before the entire floor went up in a fiery explosion and while he was certain that would effectively destroy Saeran’s genetic projects once and for all, he was uncertain of what effect the detonation would have on the rest of the structure. 

  


  


Thus he was actually relieved when they reached the staircase that Tory had mentioned taking earlier when she had first emerged from her hiding place to seek out Fred. Thoughts of how she was inadvertently brought here led quickly to his worries about how she fared in Saeran’s hand. After what the man had done to Fred and how callously he had killed the child’s parents, Bryan prayed that he did not make Tory pay for rescuing Fred from her prison. Earlier, he had asked Gandalf whether or not the wizard could tell if the others was still alive to reassure Eve about Aaron’s safety but in truth, he had needed a little reassurance. 

  


  
  
Bryan was not a man who could admit easily that he was in love. He knew he cared for Tory and that when she had kissed him, that veneer of cynicism, bravado and all the layers he used to keep his emotions under tight control had been stripped away and exposed. He was not a romantic and he never would be but when her lips met his, he could very well believe what Frank used to say about there being someone for everyone because Bryan believed Tory was meant for him. Perhaps it was all this talk about reincarnation, about his being Boromir of Gondor, which he no longer bothered to deny, to himself or anyone else. Tory had felt warm and familiar and the emptiness he never knew was there was filled with her scent, her smile and he could not begin to imagine losing her. 

  


  


Christ, she was _definitely_ going to get him killed.

  


  


"There’s another staircase," Eve pointed out when they reached the top of the spiral staircase and saw that the hallway they found themselves was part of the original construction of the castle.

  


  


"Tory spoke of two," Haldir reminded as his gaze swept across the less expansive corridor and saw a door at the end of it. "Shall we investigate?"

  


  


"No," Gandalf shook his head. "There is no time and I sense that there is nothing here of use to us." 

  


  


"He’s right," Bryan said as he strode towards the next staircase and gazed upwards. There was light emanating from the end of it and knew immediately, that was their ultimate destination. "Tory said she came through here when she got out of the boot of the car. It’s probably what passes for their basement."

  


  


"Well that’s handy to know," Eve remarked. "Considering our own car is hours away, we might need to make a quick exit when this is over."

  


  


Bryan was not listening because he was more intent on completing the last part of their plan, which was in all truth the riskiest part of it. However, time was of the essence, not only because of Saeran’s plans for the world but also because they needed to reach minimum safe distance from the blast about to tear through the place from below ground. Taking the first few steps up the staircase that would lead them closer to Saeran, Bryan made a cursory of examination of the path overhead before meeting the gaze of his companions.

  


  


"He wants us to come to him so there won’t be much be much trouble once we get above. If we do see any signs of trouble, we should make a fight of it. Give him the impression that we haven’t guessed it’s a trap. The bastard’s arrogant enough to think that so we might as well used it as much as we can. It will help to make our own surprise all the more effective."

  


  
  
"We understand," Haldir replied, his bow already armed and ready. Having seen Haldir use it, Bryan was not about to question its effectiveness in a fight. "Let us proceed," he said impatiently.

  


  


"Alright then, let’s do this," Bryan nodded and took the lead and scaled the spiral staircase quickly. 

  


  


The corkscrew path of the staircase did not rise as high as when they had ascended from the corridor network but what distance it did put between them and the lower levels, gave Bryan some comfort. It did not take long for him to reach the top of the steps and the staircase emptied into the hallway of what appeared to be the main foyer of the castle. He emerged into the same room that Tory had done earlier, sweeping his gaze over the luxurious surroundings and wondered where the others were in this place. As of yet, there was no sign of Saeran but Gandalf had a strong sense of where the dark lord was so it would not be difficult to find him. At the moment, Bryan was more concerned on whether or not they would soon have company. 

  


  


Scouting the immediate area, he turned back to the others and saw that they were approaching stealthily. Eve had taken the rear flank with Gandalf and Haldir in between. He was about to give the signal that all was clear when suddenly, an eruption of gunfire drove him against the wall. A curved line of bullet holes appeared in the wall above him and Bryan fired instinctively in the direction the barrage had come. One of Saeran’s human agents, the ones had accosted him at his apartment back in London was standing at the top of the sweeping staircase, firing at him through the ornate banister.

  


  


The bullets from Bryan’s gun ripped through the wooden banister, spraying the floor with splinters before the path of gunfire ran into the brick walls. The enemy was driven backwards by the barrage and Bryan emboldened by this retreat emerged from his refuge and continued to drive him further back up the staircase. By the time, Bryan reached the carpeted steps; the enemy had disappeared all together and for the moment at least, the way seemed clear. 

  


  


"Come on," he gestured to the others as he saw them reach the foot of the steps. "It looks safe for now."

  


  


"I doubt that he is alone," Haldir remarked as the elf stepped onto the staircase, his eyes surveying their new surrounding with caution. "Not that I wish to sound like Legolas but I sense there is danger afoot and it is more than just prevalent as it has been since we entered Sauron’s domain but rather looming."

  


  
  
"Can you sense where he is Gandalf?" Eve asked the wizard as her eyes scanned the area.

  


  


"Oh yes," Gandalf nodded walking past her along the steps, leading up the sweeping staircase. The old man joined Bryan as they continued up the stairs, "he is waiting for us up there."

  


  


"Well we knew that," Bryan said not about to be discouraged by hearing again what they all already aware. He looked at their immediate surroundings and realized it would have been difficult to believe that they were about to face some ancient dark lord when the placed looked like a proper manor house, with expensive draperies and chandeliers. The network of corridors containing twisted genetic experiments, a cavern of giant spiders and unimaginable monsters seemed almost a lifetime away in comparison to where they were now.

  


  


Haldir paused in mid step. He could feel danger closing in on them. It felt like cold tendrils creeping up his shoulder and he turned slowly around. 

  


  


"What is it?" Eve asked when she saw the expression on his face and her question halted the others in their steps as well.

  


  


"We are not alone," Haldir met her gaze and as he spoke those words, a door creaked abruptly open.

  


  


Emerging from the room where Saeran had enjoyed his audience with Fred, a number of armed men hurried through the doorway and halted at the foot of the steps, their guns trained on the intruders. They were armed with laser sights and as Haldir moved to fire, Eve who saw how many of them they were and knew that if a fire fight ensued while they were in this vulnerable position, not even Gandalf would walk away unscathed. 

  


  


"No," she said moving to stop him as he prepared to shoot, "don’t."

  


  


Bryan would have done the same thing himself were he in arm’s reach of the march warden but coinciding with the enemy’s emergence from the lower room, was another body of armed men who paused at the top of the stairs and quickly took aim with their weapons. Crimson beans of light from their laser gun sights rested on Bryan’s chest in multiple points. He looked at Gandalf and saw the same on the old man’s chest though a gunshot would not be as nearly as fatal for the old man as it would be for the rest of them. His eyes touched Gandalf’s own briefly and saw the old man nod in understanding that this was how it had to be. They were almost at the end now and from here on, they would have to relinquish the control that had kept them alive this far. 

  


  


It was hardest for Bryan who did not know how to surrender easily but this time, he would have to be the first one to lower his weapon. The turn of events was not unexpected. Bryan knew it was only a matter of time before Saeran sprung his trap and now that he had, now that they were caught in the kill zone, he had to follow it through no matter how unpalatable it was to him personally. He had told Eve that he needed her to be strong, that despite her fears for Aaron, they still had to follow the doctor’s plan. Now he needed the same resolve. He needed it because it was the only way he would see Fred and Tory again.

  


  


Bryan swallowed down the lump in his throat that was his ingrained need to resist, to fight to the death no matter what the cost, he wondered if they truly knew how damn difficult it was for him to yield. However, if he wanted to win, he would have to lose first.

  


  


Bryan turned slightly and saw Haldir and Eve looking to him for guidance in what they should do. It was one thing to talk of surrender but it was another thing entirely to do it. Eve and Haldir were very much like him in that respect and Bryan knew instinctively that if they could fight to the death, they would because it was not in their nature to give up either.

  


  


"Alright you bastards," Bryan said lowering his gun, a bitter taste in his mouth as the Uzi fell against the carpet, "we surrender."

  


  


**********

  



	18. Epilogue:  Full Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

When Bryan woke up and found a nun in his room, he had fears for the worst.

  


  


Fortunately, his awakening was reason enough for the diminutive creature with her wizened face and her pleasant smile was enough to send her scurrying out of the door. When she had gone, Bryan took the opportunity to examine his situation now that the cloud of grogginess over his senses had lifted and he was more aware of his surroundings. The room he was in was plain enough. Old brick and mortar, with a wooden cross hanging over the Spartan walls covered in thin whitewash paint and a perfectly serviceable bed, side table, cupboard and chair being the only furnishings. It was the kind of room to be found in some forgotten, impoverished corner of Romania, where anything more than what was needed was considered a luxury by the communists.

  


  


He tried to sit up and immediately regretted it; his shoulder was but a dull ache against the more prolific pain emblazoning across his chest. Lifting the covers, he saw the bandages across his chest and midriff concealing the bullet holes he could feel if not see. Fragments of memory returned to him as he considered his wounds and recalled how they had somehow made it to the basement where the black cars used by the Nine had been left so far unscathed for the fire. He remembered their battle through fire and smoke, trying to reach the garage and arrived there just ahead of an inferno. After that, his recollections became hazy. He remembered vaguely Tory and Aaron telling him he would be all right and the bright lights of a surgery theatre glaring above him.

  


  


His clothes were piled neatly on the chair but Bryan frowned knowing that a watch would not be among his possessions having sacrificed it when he had been forced to make a bomb. Frank wasn’t going to be happy about that, he frowned since the watch had been a birthday gift from his brother. He wondered where everyone was and hoped that they were in as sedate surroundings as he, though he had not been in a church, which this so obviously was, for many years. He did not mind not knowing where he was but how long he had been here concerned him. His injuries still felt fresh and his body ached with each effort to move so he could not have been here for very long.

  


  


Fortunately, he was spared more debate on this matter when the door swung open and Bryan saw Aaron stepping into the room. At seeing him awake, Aaron burst into a wide grin and Bryan could not deny seeing that the doctor was in a similar state of good health was also a relief. Although they had defeated Saeran, his injuries proved that enemies existed behind every corner and had a tendency to appear when you least expected them.

  


  


"You’re looking better," Aaron said pulling up the chair next to his bed.

  


  


"I don’t feel much better," Bryan grumbled as he tried to sit up and had to be helped by Aaron in the effort. 

  


  


"I’m not surprised, you took two bullets, one of which missed your heart by a fraction and the other just about turned your intestines inside out," Aaron retorted.

  


  


"Aren’t you supposed to break the news to me gently?" He looked at Aaron.

  


  


"You’re a tough guy," Aaron smiled, "you can handle it."

  


  


"Where are Tory and Fred?" Bryan asked, feeling the need to see them both.

  


  


"I sent them into town with Eve and Haldir," he replied. "Tory hasn’t left your side in almost two days. I figured she needed the rest. Besides, we needed supplies."

  


  


"Where are we?" Bryan inquired, looking out the window and taking in the sight of the Carpathians in the distance. It was a nice day outside and Bryan could not deny that the blue sky and the tinge of warmth in the air was inviting.

  


  


"In a convent outside Catunele," Aaron answered. "It’s a small town about 16 miles north of Motru. I figured that this would be a better place to hide out in case anyone came looking for us. We stayed in Motru long enough for me to put you and Legolas back together. You were pretty much out of it when we moved you out of there. Fortunately, Gandalf used that Jedi mind trick of his to keep the Romanian hospital authorities from asking too many question."

  


  


"What about Saeran?" Bryan asked, his voice low.

  


  


"He’s here too," Aaron replied, thinking of the small room where David Saeran was languishing in his own private hell. "I conducted an Apnea test while we were at the hospital. I didn’t want to risk the chance of respiratory failure so I had a cannula inserted in his endotracheal tube. I had him on an EEG for 24 hours to make sure and I conducted an angiographic examination. He is suffering irreversible systemic metabolic."

  


  


"In English?" Bryan retorted sarcastically, since nothing Aaron made sense the last few minutes had made sense.

  


  


"Laymen," Aaron snorted, "he’s not going to be waking up soon."

  


  


" _That_ I understand," he declared and then added. "The Romanian authorities didn’t question you doing all this?" Bryan stared at him, unable to imagine Aaron performing all this without notice.

  


  


"Well the fact that I took two bullets out of you and told them to put a chest tap in Legolas pretty much confirmed my credentials but Gandalf is just as persuasive with hospital personnel as he is with airline leasing agents," Aaron grinned. 

  


  


"Wizards," Bryan shrugged before easing back into his bed, feeling drained and needed more sleep. "What about the woman who shot me?"

  


  


"Irina Sadko?" Aaron frowned thinking about Saeran’s lover. "We didn’t have time to take prisoners Bryan. You and Legolas needed to get to a hospital fast. We left her behind."

  


  
  
"Fair enough," Bryan nodded but inwardly, he sensed that they would cross paths with the lady again. Fortunately, that was an encounter for another time. "How’s the elf doing?"

  


  


"Oh he’s fine," Aaron answered, "he’s with Gandalf in what passes for the television room around here, watching Xena in the traditional Romanian, I really don’t know understand the fascination but then I’m a Baywatch man myself."

  


  


"She’s got a great pair of chakrams," Bryan retorted before allowing himself to drift back into the comforting arms of sleep, content that Aaron Stone had everything well in hand because he could use the rest.

  


  
  
He certainly earned it.

  


  


*************

  


  


 

  


Staring out the ornate French doors of her office balcony, Irina Sadko took in the sight of the magnificent forests of Branesti that lay beyond the borders of the sprawling mansion estate she was presently occupying. Unaware that she was sharing the view of the sky as Bryan Miller, Irina placed the teacup from she was sipping tea carefully onto the table. Her grip on the porcelain handle was somewhat shaky because she was unaccustomed to using her left hand for the task. Unfortunately, the thick bandage around her right wrist ensured that she would get accustomed to it for the time being.

  


  


Although David Saeran’s preferred residence was his castle in the foothills of Transylvania, he used the Branesti residence whenever he had business to conduct in Bucharest. Being the head of Malcolm Industries required the man to put on a public face and here, he could move about in the luxury expected of an international tycoon. While the castle had been his private domain where he was able to further his plans for his New Order, this had been where he had maintained the illusion of the successful businessman. 

  


  


The destruction of the castle had unfortunately made the newspapers but Malcolm Industries public relation’s people, under Irina’s direction, had been quick to take charge of the situation before, citing the cause of the fire being a faulty boiler. As far as the world was concerned, David Saeran had been in the castle at the time of the accident but his injuries were minor and he was now convalescing at his estate in Bavaria. Irina had ensured that not even company’s board members were aware of Saeran’s abduction because to reveal the truth would be inviting interest by law enforcement agencies and all they would do is get in the way of what had to be done.

  


  


Due to the nature of Bryan Miller’s injuries, Irina knew that the enemy would have been forced to flee to Motru, the nearest place with a fully equipped hospital. Preliminary inquiries had revealed that two men were treated by an American doctor but after he had made use of their surgery had quickly discharged his patients and disappeared. None of the investigators were able to gain any clear indication of where Aaron Stone might have gone and Irina suspected the malaise of misinformation provided by hospital staff was most likely attributed to the wizard’s enchantments. 

  


  
  
Meanwhile her contacts in the governments of the United States, China and the Russian Federation respectively, had managed to smuggle some information about the three men who wore Saeran’s rings. Walter Green had surrendered himself after murdering two of the launch crew at the North Dakota missile base. The powers that be attributed to his behaviour to a nervous breakdown caused by the death of his fiancée’ Elizabeth who had been found hours before, in her bathtub with her wrists slit open. Green’s fate was unknown but it was largely suspected that he had been sequestered somewhere in a military psychiatric hospital.

  


  


Xiang Li had also surrendered himself and was also similarly unavailable. Knowing the finality of the Chinese judicial system and particularly that of the military, Irina suspected that he was most likely in the same place as his mistress Ming. She had been killed under interrogation by an operative of Black Serpent who was more than happy to do the deed after Ming had revealed their existence to the Chinese authorities. Major Andrei Nikolaevich; too much the proud Russian had preferred suicide rather than surrendering himself to the authorities. Irina sensed that he had embarked upon this course to give his government some way to explain themselves out of the situation if it ever became public. 

  


  


He was a man unafraid to die for the right cause. A Russian to the last.

  


  


When the door to her office creaked open, it felt as if the warmth generated by the sunlight outside the room had suddenly drained. Long shadows appeared in the room even though the clouds were light and nowhere in danger of overshadowing the sun. Still, the sudden shift in the room did not alarm Irina because it was a chill she had felt before. Easing into her chair, she waited for them to emerge into the room, one after the other. They appeared perfect copies of one another and no doubt were unhappy to see her sitting where their master should have been. However, she did not much care for their feelings at the moment because she was confident they would appreciate that at the moment, they needed her.

  


  


"So you finally decide to show yourselves," she said sarcastically, placing her palms together fingertip to fingertip, she held to her lips as she regarded them thoughtfully.

  


  


"You do not speak for our master," the leader of them, the one she knew was called the Witch King spoke in that chilling voice of his. 

  


  


"Alright then," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, "go out there and find him yourself."

  


  


The Witch king stiffened in dislike and she could see the others trying to keep from looking at him and how he would react to her clear challenge. 

  


  


"We cannot feel him," the Witch King said after a long pause. 

  


  


"Of course you can’t!" she snapped sharply as she stood up. "You allowed Bryan Miller to catch you off guard like a bunch of Uruks fresh out of the byre! Considering David’s confidence in you, I must say that I am thoroughly disappointed. You allowed yourself to be sent to wherever it is you things come from while they came and trapped him inside his own body! You cannot feel him because he is encased in flesh. In the state he was in, he could be kept like that for the rest of his natural life and if he is taken across the Western Sea, then we will never get our hands on him again."

  


  
  
None of the wraiths said anything to dispute her harsh words and judging by the fact that they had remained silent, Irina was of the impression that they were ready to listen to her now. She lowered herself into her seat once more and looked into the reflection of herself in the Witch King’s dark glasses. "You will leave immediately and see to it that control of Malcolm Industries is turned over to me. I trust you are capable of persuading the members of the board to see thing my way?"

  


  


"Yes," the Witch King answered slowly. "It can be done."

  


  


"It _will_ be done," Irina repeated herself firmly. "If you want my assistance to get David back I will need access to _all_ the resources of Malcolm Industries. With any luck, we can get our hands on him before they leave Europe. If that is at all possible."

  


  


"It will be done," he replied.

  


  


"Good," Irina said easing back into her chair, "the second thing you will do is find out everything you can about Bryan Miller. We know Stone, McCaughley and Harding have no surviving family but I want to know whether that is the same for Miller."

  


  


The Witch King absorbed the instructions given to him by his master’s lover and fought the inclination to kill her himself but she was right, the Nine could not move about the world freely in search of their Lord. They needed a human agent to act for them and she wanted to find Sauron as much as they. They needed her and because they did, they would obey her. 

  


  


For now.

  


  


*************

  


  


It had been a trying time for Section Supervisor Caldwell. 

  


  


While the world had been completely unaware that it had been on the verge of nuclear annihilation, the same could not be said of the various intelligence communities across the globe that were always privy to the secrets hidden by their governments. In the wake of three senior high ranking officers in their respective nation’s nuclear program suddenly losing their minds and attempting to launch missiles, there was a flurry of activity originating in the mad scramble to find out how this was responsible and which one of them might have been responsible. The Chinese had begun asking questions about Black Serpent which in turn inspired the Russians and the Americans to do the same. Since the only field agent presently carrying out any investigation into the mysterious organisation was Bryan Miller, all those anxious voices were looking to him for answers.

  


  


The whereabouts of Bryan Miller was a mystery, which did not help the situation or Caldwell’s efforts to explain the absence of one of his own agents. Nor MI6 did not take kindly to intelligence operatives of Bryan’s calibre going missing even if it was due to an enforced leave Caldwell had forced him to take. The powers that be were also turning their attention to Caldwell and why the Black Serpent organisation was not taken seriously particularly since they had been on the verge of committing the greatest act of terrorism of all time. 

  


  


Bryan had been right, it would have made the September 11th bombings of the World Trade Centre look like a walk in the park. 

  


  


It had been more than a month since the destruction of David Saeran’s Romanian castle and though the press was claiming that Saeran was convalescing after sustaining minor injuries, in a private residence, Caldwell had a bad feeling that there was more afoot then previously suspected. Meanwhile, Bryan Miller’s whereabouts continued to be a mystery that Caldwell was finding increasingly hard to explain without further implicating the Black Serpent organisation which it had been his job to avoid for the past decades. He was not surprised when one of Saeran’s contacts sent him a message to wait in his office for a call from the man himself. 

  


  


Glancing at his watch as he walked down the empty corridors of the Firm’s offices, it was a little after ten o’clock on Saturday night. He wished Saeran were not so inconvenient with his phone calls because he had the devil of a time explaining to his wife that he had to go to the office at this hour. Although when he was a field agent, it had been commonplace. Still, he had not been a field agent for many years and supposed age did make one complacent.

  


  


Reaching his office, he slid his security card into the computerised access panel and heard the familiar click of the door opening. Stepping inside the darkened room, he suspected nothing was a miss until he noticed the light from his computer monitor was on and quickly reached for the light switch.

  


  


"Good evening Sir," Bryan Miller greeted pleasantly, his legs stretched out on Caldwell’s desk as he leaned back in the supervisor’s chair. 

  


  


"Bryan!" Caldwell exclaimed with genuine surprise. "How did you get in here?"

  


  


"You forgotten what I do for a living?" Bryan gave him a look but made no effort to remove himself from Caldwell’s chair. 

  


  


"Where have you been? Its panic stations everywhere trying to find you! Do you have any idea what’s happened?"

  


  


"Let me venture a guess," Bryan said casually, "Black Serpent and David Saeran used three military officers to attempt launching nuclear strikes against each superpower? Sorry old boy, yesterday’s news."

  


  


It was at this point that Caldwell noticed that Bryan wearing dark gloves.

  


  


"You heard then?" Caldwell sad cautiously.

  


  


"Did I hear? Yes, I had some idea when I killed the bastard."

  


  


"Saeran is dead?" Caldwell returned, unable to hide his shock. "But he was going to call…" the realisation sunk in. "I see, that was your contact bringing me here?"

  


  


"Guilty," Bryan said with a cocky smirk. "You see I knew that if I told you that I wanted to meet you here alone, I had this sense you might have some trouble obliging me."

  


  


"Bryan," Caldwell’s voice shifted to friendly and disarming, "what’s all this then? You’re one of my boys. I’ve always looked out for you. You know that."

  


  


"I’m sure you did," Bryan’s eyes became hard points of flint. "But I’m here to tell you I’ve decided to take an extended leave from the service and I don’t want to have unexpected visitors dropping in on me."

  


  


"You know that I can be trusted," Caldwell said reassuringly.

  


  


"I do, I do," Bryan returned with more than a hint of condescension, "but just to make sure I’ve erased my file from records. As far as MI6 is concerned, I no longer exist."

  


  


"You can’t do that!" Caldwell exclaimed. "You don’t have the authority!"

  


  


"I don’t, that’s true," he returned calmly, "but you do. You really ought to change your password. I’m certain if I figured out that its Reggie after your pet spaniel, others will too."

  


  


"The information may be erased but I still know about you and Frank," Caldwell declared. "They could torture me. I wouldn’t give you up of course but there’s no guarantee."

  


  


"Yes, they could torture you couldn’t they?" Bryan said with a wholly sceptical tone to his voice. "But then again, they could just ask you."

  


  


"What do you mean?" The man tensed in response.

  


  


"Saeran told me about you Caldwell," Bryan stared at him. "Told me that you were bought and paid for by me. That you had advised him several times to have me done once and for all. Too bad he didn’t listen."

  


  
  
Caldwell’s features turned dark and stormy, aware that no argument was going to convince Bryan otherwise. "So what are you going to do now Bryan? I’ll have them come after you the minute you leave the building. If I don’t get you, I’ll get Frank. So what are you going to do, kill me?"

  


  


Bryan smiled faintly answered, "as a matter of fact, yes."

  


  


And with that, he pulled out the gun with the silencer hidden away and put a bullet squarely between Caldwell’s eyes. 

  


  


The Section Supervisor was dead before he even touched the ground and as Bryan watched him fall, could not deny a tinge of regret that it had come to this, but only a tinge. When Bryan thought of all the agents in MI6 before him that had come too close to Black Serpent, all the informants who had been efficiently eliminated in order to maintain the secrets, Bryan knew that Caldwell was most likely responsible for all of it.

  


  


Nor did he have any doubt that Caldwell would have used Frank to get to him. 

  


  


His brother who had more difficulty finding his reading glasses than he did the fossils in the ground had no place in Bryan’s stygian world. Fortunately, Bryan could be assured that Frank’s wife Miranda would know how to keep his younger brother safe. She had been his date but somehow hit it off with Frank, which Bryan did not mind really because he and Miranda were too much alike. They were both MI6 agents and Miranda had baggage of her own that was actually eased by her marriage to Frank. She had left the service to be with his brother and Bryan was confident that if anyone came looking to hurt Frank or the kids, Philip and Sammie, Miranda would tear their hearts out.

  


  


No, his regret was killing Caldwell was brief and by the time he stepped over the man’s body to depart the building, it had turned into indifference.

  


  


************

  


  


In the same way in which they had left England, they had returned to it in more or less the same manner.

  


  


Thanks to Gandalf, they were able to retrieve the plane waiting for them in Craiova and leave Romania once Bryan was well enough to fly. However, instead of taking the plane back to London, they had returned once again to Lochinver, the coastal Scottish town they had started out from. Fortunately, smuggling David Saeran out of Romania had been relatively easy since Malcolm Industries had made no public announcement that the tycoon was missing. In fact their propaganda machine claimed that he was convalescing in Bavaria, whatever that meant. 

  


  


Lochinver was the perfect place for them to recuperate after their trials in Europe and after everything they had been through it was a rest they sorely needed. The return to some sense of normalcy was particularly good for Fred because Aaron was certain that after everything that the child had endured while in Saeran’s company, she was somewhat traumatised. He doubted that she had even allowed herself to grieve for her parents and the notion of returning the child to her grandparents was quickly discarded by both Tory and Bryan for obvious reasons but also for the very real danger that Saeran’s people may come after her even though he was gone. Besides, Aaron was certain that the best thing for Fred was for her to stay with the one person she believed could keep her safe and that was Bryan.

  


  


Bryan himself had come to accept the role of father in the child’s life though Aaron was certain he was still somewhat at a loss at the sudden change in his personal life. For a man who had believed that his career and a quick death was all he had to look forward to in his future, the presence of a woman who loved him and a child who adored him was quite a bit to take in. Thus, Aaron was not surprised when Bryan had claimed he needed to go to London shortly after arriving in Lochinver to take care of some unfinished business.

  


  


Tory had accepted his reasons for going without question and Aaron knew her well enough to know that she needed some time to absorb everything that had happened in her life since he had appeared on her doorstep. While Aaron was happy to see her find someone (though Bryan would not have been his first choice), he was also guilty about removing her from her safe, comfortable existence and thrusting her headfirst into a world where she was constantly in danger. Still, she had risen magnificently to the occasion and Aaron was inordinately proud of her. Wherever Stuart was, Aaron was certain his friend would approve.

  


  


While they waited for Bryan to return from London and prepared their own departure from the modern world back to Valinor, they had rented a chalet at a bed and breakfast called Caisteal Liath on the north side of Lochinver Bay, in the quaint community of Baddidarrach. It was a beautiful place with magnificent views of the Canisp, Suilven and other similarly breathtaking mountains. The elves in particular enjoyed the sojourn, though Aaron suspected it made them long for Valinor even more. Aaron could blame them for he was missing it himself and knew that to Eve it was home because Elrond, Celebrian and her brothers were waiting for her return. 

  


  


Gandalf had spent most of his time watching over David Saeran and Aaron wondered if the Maia felt somewhat responsible for his errant brother who had lost his way so completely. In either case, Aaron was glad that Gandalf had assumed the duty because it made him uncomfortable somewhat to be in the company of the former dark lord of Mordor. As a physician sworn to do no harm, he was not entirely happy that he had been forced to do this to what was an essentially healthy human being. He was a doctor and it was not ethical for him to question the morality of the soul inhabiting the flesh. Such was a duty left to priests and philosophers. As a doctor, he had violated the most basic tenet of his profession and though it was for the greater good, a part of him would never feel entirely absolved of what he had done.

  


  


"How is she doing?" Aaron asked Tory when he joined his friends on the shore of the lovely pebble beach called White Shore that one had to reach after navigating the pristine Culag woods. His gaze moved to Fred who was, with Haldir’s help, attempting to send a kite shaped like a great bird, soaring into the sky with limited success.

  


  


"She’s good," Tory said with a smile as she was stretched out on the woollen blanket against the grassy area within sight of the beach. Fred was laughing as Haldir showed a softer side seldom seen with the child and for the first time since he had met the little girl, Aaron saw signs that maybe she would be able to put her ordeal with Saeran behind her. 

  


  


"I think being in this place helps," Tory replied, taking a deep breath of the salt air as she saw a flock of gulls soaring overhead. "It would be a little like Cardiff, where’s she from."

  


  


"More than that," Legolas added, "this were lands that were once Eriador and this place resembles the Shire greatly. Perhaps the part of her that was Frodo Baggins is able to sense that."

  


  


"Oh I think its got to do with the fact that she’s not in a place where there are Ringwraiths, spiders, nameless things and god only knows what else is lurking in the dark," Eve replied, shuddering slightly when she remembered those enormous spiders with their blood red compound eyes.

  


  


"That could be it," Aaron nodded but in truth, it could be any or all of those reasons. Whatever the truth of it was, Fred was behaving like a normal little girl as Haldir flung the kite into the air and was unimpressed when it did not rise as loftily as he liked.

  


  


"He flies it like he shoots arrows," Legolas snorted.

  


  


"That’s mean," Eve looked at him. "He didn’t do too badly when we fighting Saeran."

  


  


"I suppose," Legolas frowned, truly hating the fact that the most he had been able to contribute to that fight was one arrow at a crucial moment. He admired as well as envied Haldir’s skill in helping Eve defeat Sauron’s men during the final battle. 

  


  


"You’re just so jealous you had to sit out most of it," Aaron teased, guessing the truth accurately.

  


  


"I’m not jealous," Legolas muttered like a sulking jealous child, "if I were able I could have done just as well."

  


  


"Yes," Eve leaned over with an evil gleam in her eye, "but _you_ _weren’t_."

  


  


Legolas stared at her for a moment before looking at Aaron, "you certain you want to marry this woman? As your, what did you call it, ‘best man’? As your best man it is my duty to protect you from all things, even her."

  


  


"Nah," Aaron said with a laugh, "I’ve already had sex with her. If I don’t marry her, Elrond’s going to hunt me down. He already looks at me like I’m some kind of improper letch."

  


  


"Aaron!" Tory exclaimed aghast as Eve rolled her eyes. "How do you put up with him?"

  


  


"Are you kidding?" Eve looked at her, "you’re dating a guy who knows how to make bombs with digital watches. The doc’s pretty tame in comparison."

  


  


"Hey!" Aaron exclaimed because that did _not_ sound like a compliment.

  


  


"Don’t worry doc," she leaned over and kissed him affectionately, "I love you anyway."

  


  


"Gee, thanks," Aaron returned sarcastically.

  


  


"Actually, I am a little worried about going to this place with the elves," Tory confessed. "I mean I’m a London barrister for goodness sake, what am I going to do there?’

  


  


"Look," Aaron replied, having once experienced the same concerns himself. "I know it’s a big step but its for the best believe me and you don’t have to stay there forever, just until things calm down here a little."

  


  


"Besides," Legolas added, "during his battle with Sauron, I heard Gandalf speaking of Manwe and his reconsideration regarding the fate of men. I do believe that you should return with us Tory, not merely because it is safer you since the Nine still exist, but also you may have some part to play in what Manwe’s decision."

  


  


Tory wished her reservations could be easily brushed aside but even with the assurance of her friends, she could not deny that a doubt lingered in her mind. However, Valinor seemed like a wonderful place for a child and Tory supposed for Fred’s sake, she would give the place a chance. Besides, Aaron had convinced Bryan that it was wise for them to disappear for a time especially since the Nine had not been destroyed. In Valinor, they would be beyond the wraith’s reach and Tory was not about to let Bryan disappear out of her life especially when she had come so close to losing him in this whole affair.

  


  


"This object is obviously faulty," Haldir announced seriously when he came back with the kite. Beside him, Fred was trying not to smile. 

  


  


"No it is not," Legolas crowed. "You do not know how to fly it properly."

  


  


"I suppose you do?" Haldir returned with a challenging tone in his voice. "You cannot even operate the remote."

  


  


"Come along Fred," Legolas said standing up, "we will show Haldir how it is done."

  


  


Fred giggled as she cast as she followed Legolas to the beach with Haldir following, insisting that the kite’s reason for not flying had to do with its construction and wind factors."

  


  


"You know what the sad thing is?" Aaron glanced at his two favourite women, "Fred’s the most mature one out of all three."

  


  


*************

  


  


 

  


Bryan arrived in Lochinver a few days later, after settling his affairs and ensuring that there was no way the Nine could trace him. Of course, there was always the possibility that Frank could be in danger but with no records of Bryan in existence, the search for his brother would be difficult. Being a member of MI6 had meant that his records came under the Official Secrets Act. Any organisation requesting information about him would have to go through them first and since he had erased those same records, finding him would be a difficult proposition indeed. In any case, he knew that so long as he remained in the modern world as Aaron called it, the Nine would never stop looking for him or Fred in order to use them to retrieve their master.

  


  


When he arrived in the small Scottish town, he found that his friends were closer to their departure than he had anticipated, though he had made certain that he came with his own supplies for making the journey to a strange, distant land for an undetermined amount of time. In truth, he should have been anxious about what awaited him across the sea but the honest truth was, the idealist, a component of himself that Bryan was surprised to find had not been quashed by years of cynicism, was eager to see this fairy tale world. Legolas spoke of a whole island of wonders and Bryan was actually looking forward to seeing it and exploring a new world that was not all about secrets and politics.

  


  


The only other thing he did do whilst in London was to contact Frank who apparently was not at all in Africa as he suspected but was somewhere in Asia about to embark upon a new project in northern Europe. Bryan did not ask him to elaborate because Frank tended to go on about his work as if given the opportunity. Still, Bryan loved him. He loved that Frank had such a precise and ordered mind and that there was a great deal of strength beneath his quiet exterior. Even though he was younger, Bryan never had to protect Frank because Frank always managed to work things out on his own. It was one of the reasons that he was certain that Frank would be alright when he was gone.

  


  


Bryan chose not to go into too much detail, telling Frank that it was probably best that he told anyone who asked that he had no brother. Frank was aware of what Bryan did for a living and knew that such a request was not made lightly. They had exchanged a few warm wishes to take care before Bryan hung up the phone, feeling saddened because he had no idea when he would see his brother again. Until Tory and Fred had entered his life, Frank was the only person in the world who had meant as much to him. Bryan would miss him.

  


  


Besides, Valinor was the kind of place Fred needed to recover after her experiences with Saeran. Bryan knew he was mellowing with age when it came to the little girl but as Caldwell had learnt rather tragically, his love for Fred and Tory had not dulled his edge. He arrived at the chalet and found Gandalf keeping his usual vigil on Saeran. Bryan had a feeling that until they reached Valinor and were able to relinquish charge of their prisoner, the wizard would not be at ease. Gandalf had told him the others were at the wharf preparing their ship, the _Anemone_ , for its voyage. Considering that he had supplies himself, he supposed it would not be a bad idea to meet them down there. He did not want to wait to see Tory and Eve anyway.

  


  


Bryan had never seen the motor yacht the _Anemone_ before but had to confess as he made his way towards the berth where it was presently docked, that it was an impressive vessel _._ It certainly appeared as if it had a sizeable cargo hold which was just as well because if he was forced to set sail without the dozen cases of Fullers beer he had in the boot of his car, there was going to be trouble. 

  


  


"Did I miss anything?" Bryan asked when he saw Aaron picking up one of the boxes from the collection on the dock. 

  


  


"Bout time you got here," Aaron declared, glad to see the Englishman had actually kept his word and come back. "Get one of those boxes, will you?"

  


  


"Sure," Bryan leaned down and picked one up, "what’s all this?"

  


  


"The girls have been to the store," Aaron said sarcastically. "Apparently the shopping in Valinor leaves something to be desired."

  


  


Bryan reached into the box he was carrying and picked up a set of DVDs and one box set. "Lady Chatterley’s Lover and Sharpe’s Rifles?"

  


  


"Its Tory’s," Aaron shook his head as he continued down the gangplank. "I think she likes the guy that’s in it." 

  


  


Bryan took a look at the cover and raised a brow; "oh bugger, its bloody Sean Bean. He has the worst Yorkshire accent."

  


  


"You have a Yorkshire accent," Aaron pointed out.

  


  


"Yes, but I have an _authentic_ Yorkshire accent," Bryan defended himself, "and sense enough not to wear trousers that cut off circulation."

  


  


"Well he doesn’t have pants in the first one and I think that’s why she likes it," Aaron retorted. "Think of this way, you _didn’t_ have to sit through the fourteen episodes of it."

  


  


Bryan was about to voice his sympathy when Tory emerged onto the deck and saw them both. Bryan felt himself filling with warm at the sight of her and was rather stunned by how much he missed her during their time apart. He had told himself that it was probably best that he took a moment to catch their breath but now as he saw her smiling at him, he knew he was just being bloody stupid.

  


  


"Well it’s about time you got back," Tory said leaning into capture his mouth in a kiss and once again Bryan felt as if he was sixteen again, snogging Trish Watkins in the back of the school, only better. He wondered if he would ever tire of the silky perfection of those lips and came to the abrupt realization that he was utterly in love. 

  


  


In other words, completely bolloxed. 

  


  


"I missed you. Did you take care of your business?" She asked unaware of the thoughts running through his head.

  


  


Bryan looked at her with an unfathomable expression and replied coolly, "more or less."

  


  


"Want to tell me about it?" She asked gently, sensing there was more to it than his simple explanation. 

  


  


"Not really," he shrugged, "nothing to tell. Just handed in my resignation and that was that."

  


  


"They didn’t mind you just walking out?" Aaron looked at him, remembering all those movies about spies trying to escape the life without much success.

  


  


"I was very convincing," he said with a straight face before following them into the yacht.

  


  


************

  


  


 

  


"Bryan!" Fred exclaimed happily and ran into his arms after Bryan had relinquished the box of Tory’s essentials. 

  


  


"Hello Fred," Bryan swept her, once again surprise by the violence of his emotions over seeing the child again. She certainly looked in better spirits than when he had left but supposed she was only barely seven years old and could be forgiven for being slightly traumatised by her treatment at David Saeran’s hands. "How have you been?"

  


  


"I saw seals and whales," she announced enthusiastically. "Haldir and Leggy showed me how to fly a kite though it didn’t go very high but that’s okay because I got to ride a pony and see a real big cow and then we went into the woods and Aaron got lost but we found him again." She said in one breath.

  


  


"You got lost?" Bryan looked over his shoulder at the doctor.

  


  


"Yeah," Eve remarked coming to greet Bryan, "ask him where."

  


  


"I don’t see why we need to keep relieving this," Aaron bit back with a scowl.

  


  


"On a walk guided by Rangers," Legolas sniggered obviously thinking this was a great joke of some kind.

  


  


"Why don’t you go fly a kite?" Aaron glared at him.

  


  


"I’m glad to see you were busy while I was gone," Bryan retorted before turning to Tory and asking quietly, "can I have a word?"

  


  


Tory gave him a strange look because the last time he had asked for a quiet word, he had sent her away with Fred. She did not believe he had the same intention in mind but it did concern her a little as she followed him out of the cabin and the others onto the deck. Outside, the midday activity on the wharf was reaching crescendo. People were moving back and forth across the pier, going about their business, enjoying the sunshine even though there was the typical chill of the highlands blowing through the light breeze. 

  


  


"If this is about a train," Tory gave him a warning look, which drew a smile from him at the assumption.

  


  
  
"Nothing like that," he said sincerely, "Aaron thinks we’ll be underway within the next day or so."

  


  


"Yes, that’s right," she nodded, wondering what was then bombshell he was about to drop on her.

  


  


"It’s a long way we’re going, far away from anything we’ve ever known. I’m eager to see this place of theirs but I’m also a little nervous. Are you?"

  


  


Tory could not deny it and she wouldn’t because if there was one thing that had defined their relationship was the fact that she could see through him as clearly as he could see through her. He would know if she lied. "I am," she confessed. "Legolas says that there might be something in the wind that involves us but it still frightens me a little."

  


  


"That’s why I’m asking," he met her gaze, "you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I won’t force you to go if you’re not sure. I would hate to leave without you but I’d understand."

  


  


At that moment, she saw the veneer of blanket emotional concealment lowering from his eyes and behind that veil, Tory knew that he was afraid of her answer. He was afraid that she would take him up on his offer to be released and walk out of his life. 

  


  


"I mean Fred and I could make do without you," he continued to speak, but his eyes lowered because he was uncomfortable with being seen so vulnerable. "We wouldn’t like it much. She’s as attached to you as she is to me and you know how I feel."

  


  


"How do you feel?" Tory asked, her lips pursed to keep from smiling.

  


  


"Well _you know_ ," he stammered, still unable to look her in the eye.

  


  


"No I _don’t know_ ," Tory insisted, enjoying his discomfiture immensely.

  


  


"You’re going to make me say it aren’t you?" He met her gaze finally, eyes narrowed.

  


  
  
"I said it!" she pointed out.

  


  
  
"But I was shot, bleeding, dying, you just said it so I wouldn’t slip away," he accused.

  


  


"If all I want to do was keep you from falling unconscious, I could have said something even more provocative, like fancy a shag or something!"

  


  


"That would have worked, you know," he returned.

  


  


"Bryan!" Tory exclaimed with frustration. The man was impossible!

  


  
  
"Alright," he gave up in exasperation, "I love you. There! You heard me say it! I love you and I don’t want you to go. If I’m going to sail of into this Never Neverland, I want to go with you or it won’t be the same."

  


  


"Now wasn’t that easy?" She crossed the space between them and linked her arms around his neck. 

  


  


Bryan frowned but it was difficult to argue the point when she captured his mouth in a kiss and reminded him that some contests were worth losing, especially this one.

  


  


"I suppose," he muttered after she had parted from him.

  


  


"I love you Bryan," Tory said seriously. "I don’t know how I know, but I’ve been waiting a long time for you. I’m not going to lie that what’s waiting for us across the sea is daunting but I’m not about to let you go now that I found you. Not you or Fred."

  


  


"I had to ask…"

  


  


"I know," she kissed him gently again. "And I love you all the more for it but the choice was made long before either of us were ever born and I’m just fulfilling it."

  


  


"I’ll never understand it you know," he confessed, "this business of reincarnation and soul mates but I’m glad I found you too."

  


  


And with that it felt as if they had come full circle and everything was as it should have been at last.

  


  


*************


	19. Chapter Fifteen: Armageddon (Cont.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

  


For once, everything was unfolding as it should.

  


  


Saeran emerged from his meditation and cast his gaze over his private sanctum and found immense pleasure in the knowledge that everything had fallen into place. Irina was keeping close watch upon his enemies with the gun in her hand and he derived a surge of warmth that felt somewhat alien inside him, knowing that if he asked, she would happily kill them just to show him her undying love. The Ringbearer in turn was far from happy but the child had not moved an inch from her place at his feet and Saeran was confident that while she believed that he would not harm any of her friends, she would remain obedient. 

  


  


It would give him great satisfaction to see her face when she learnt the folly of that belief.

  


  


In the meantime, he was savoring deeply the sight of Aaron Stone, formerly Aragorn Elessar, coming to the terms with the fact that very soon his pet elf, the offspring of King Thranduil would reach the end of his long existence. He was uncertain of what he would do with Tory Harding but it seemed to him, that she might provide the emotional leverage he needed to keep Fred pliant. Perhaps he would keep her alive for a while once he had dealt with the others being marched to this room, even as the thought crossed his mind.

  


  


"We’re almost at the end Aaron," Saeran declared as he stepped off his throne and went to the doctor who was looking worriedly at the elf. "Soon, a new age will begin."

  


  


"It’s not over yet," Aaron returned once Saeran was standing over him, aware that the dark lord had a penchant for theatrics. 

  


  


"Of course not," Saeran said smugly. "You’re expecting Olorin to pull a proverbial rabbit out of his hat."

  


  


Aaron did not reply and simply turned his gaze to Legolas and Tory, showing them with his eyes that hope was not lost and they still had one card to play, no matter how bleak things may appear at the moment. 

  


  


"It’s not over until it’s over, you should know all about that," Aaron turned to Saeran with challenge in his eyes. "If I recall correctly, you amassed a great army the last time round. You had Middle earth reeling from war on two fronts. You should have won. You planned it long enough and yet you still ended up spending a hundred thousand years in the Void. I wonder what that is?"

  


  


Saeran stiffened at the reminder of his earlier failure, "I was not what I am now. This time, it will be different."

  


  


"Oh come on," Aaron stood up, feeling the need to do this face to face, even though it could get him killed but he had to keep Saeran from thinking too deeply of what alternative they had to stop him. 

  


  


"From what I’ve been told, you being incorporeal had nothing to do with it. Your mind was still intact even if your body wasn’t. Maybe its simply because when the time came, you were outsmarted. You know what they say, wearing a Yankees cap don’t make you DiMaggio. So maybe calling yourself a dark lord doesn’t mean you’re good enough to play Melkor’s game."

  


  


Saeran was still holding Anduril in his hand and he raised it to Aaron’s neck quickly, holding the blade poised over his flesh. "Do not tempt me Aaron," Saeran said in a low voice. "You are nothing to me in the scheme of things, I could kill you now and it would make little difference to how my plans unfold. You would take caution how you address me."

  


  


"Temptation is at the heart of what I do too, Saeran," Aaron replied coldly. "If you kill me, I’ll be spared seeing the radioactive hell you’re going to turn the world into and I’m not afraid to die. The question is do you want to kill me and spoil your fun? What’s a great triumph without someone’s face to rub it in and who better to rub it into than Isildur’s heir, the man who beat you the last time?"

  


  


For a second, the room became as still as a tomb. Tory’s heart was pounding in her chest as she saw the stalemate between Aaron and David Saeran. Even Legolas who was drifting in and out of consciousness was fully alert, holding his strained breath in anticipation of the dark lord’s reaction. 

  


  


"You must have been one hell of an analyst," Saeran said breaking the silence when he lowered the weapon from Aaron’s neck. 

  


  


"You have no idea," Aaron returned, giving Saeran no sign that he was relieved to be still alive. 

  


  


"You’re right, I don’t want to kill you just yet." Saeran said with a cocky smile, "I supposed I do have a little of the showman in me because I want you to see what I’m going to do this world. I want it be to be the very last thing that you ever see."

  


  


Suddenly, they heard the approach of footsteps nearing the door to the chamber. Saeran’s grin became wider as he glanced briefly at it and then at Aaron again. "It do believe your party has arrived," he said, still smirking.

  


  


Saeran bid his minions entry when the door knocked a split second later. As it widened, Aaron saw a number of Saeran’s men escorting Bryan, Gandalf, Haldir and Eve into the room. The circumstances of their arrival became painfully clear when Aaron saw the weapons belonging to Haldir, Legolas and Gandalf in the possession of the dark lord’s agents. Bryan and Eve were similarly disarmed and the only one who was allowed to carry anything at all was Gandalf. Apparently they did not believe his staff/walking still posed too much threat. For the first time since his capture, Aaron began to worry whether or not it was possible to carry out the plan he and Bryan devised when the MI6 agent was being brought into Saeran’s presence in this way.

  


  


However, seeing Eve again infused him with some sense of hope that despite the darkness of the hour, there was some light he could cling to. Eve's sapphire colored eyes touched his across the room and he saw her face brighten considerably at seeing that he was safe. No doubt, she was just as concerned for his well being as he had been about hers during their absence from each other. His gratitude at seeing her alive and unhurt was soon forgotten because he noticed something in her eyes that gave him reason to pause. 

  


  


Though she appeared clearly unimpressed by their capture, he could tell by her body language that Eve poised to react. Her posture, the way she walked, all signaled a readiness to spring into action. She reminded him the way in which a jaguar pulled back on its haunches and prepared to pounce. In the last year, he had become acquainted with every aspect of her. He knew that she tossed her hair when she was particularly annoyed. He knew the wistful smile she wore when she decided that she loved him despite the fact that he was trying her patience and he knew the way she coped with dangerous situations and at this moment, Eve’s manner was telling him that something was happening. 

  


  


Something that was not in the plan.

  


  


He shifted his gaze toward Bryan and saw that MI6 agent was in a similar state of preparation. Bryan shifted his gaze across the room in the fraction of a second, taking in the sight of everything with ruthless precision. Aaron knew that this was a trait common to hunters. Eve and Legolas were the same way. Aaron had no doubt that upon entering, Bryan had taken stock of everyone in the room and filed it away for future reference. The only time this methodical observation paused was when he laid his eyes upon Fred. Only then, did the tough mask waver and only briefly. Bryan's gaze rested on Fred and Tory in quick succession and then moved on. 

  


  


Bryan's presence in the room inspired the first sign of life in Fred’s eyes since Saeran had captured them. The despair in her expressive eyes was replaced by a little smile and even though Bryan could do little more than return it with one of his own, Fred's demeanor seemed to undertake a remarkable transformation. Tory was a little more sedate in her reaction to his arrival, perhaps not wishing to compromise him by letting Saeran know that there was more between them than simple friendship. Considering the pleasure Saeran intended to derive from torturing his enemies, it was probably the most sensible course. 

  


  


Once the doors were sealed and the prisoners were marched to Saeran, the dark lord emerged from his throne like a king receiving an audience. It was apparent to his captives that Saeran had been awaiting this moment for a long time and was relishing the illusion of his supposed victory. He stepped down from the raised platform, upon which the throne was situated, holding Anduril in his hand. Meanwhile Irina watched from her place, her lord and master savoured the encounter like a tasty morsel.

  


  


Aaron, Tory and Legolas were forced to join the others. Legolas was so weak by this point that he needed Aaron's support to stand, a burden that Haldir shared as soon as he was close enough. Aaron found Eve next to him and expressed his joy at being with her again, even under these circumstances, by entwining the fingers of his free through hers. Bryan would have done the same but like Tory, did not want to give Saeran any more power over them than necessary. His eyes softened but a moment when she met his gaze and it was more than enough for Tory to know how grateful he was to see her unhurt. 

  


  


However, he soon returned his attention to Aaron. The doctor was watching him closely, trying to decide whether or not the plan they had conceived together was still achievable. Unfortunately, Bryan could offer him no assurance.

  


  


"Well Olorin," Saeran said pausing before Gandalf, "it has been a long time."

  


  


"Not long enough I am afraid," Gandalf returned shortly. "I had thought we were done with you."

  


  


"As it has happened on numerous occasions in the past," Saeran smiled, brandishing Anduril as it were a scepter of his power, "the reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. I am back and this time, I have planned my offensive well."

  


  


"That may be," Gandalf returned, "but your offensives are usually flawed."

  


  
  
Saeran laughed shortly and remarked, "stubborn to the last. You were always so implacable in the Timeless Halls, I wonder why you took the form of flesh when you were suited to be an Ent. At least as a tree, you would have an excuse for being so inflexible."

  


  


"And you were always too free to bend to the will of Melkor. Even when you were Aule's servant, you were too eager to embrace the music of chaos."

  


  


"Means to an end old boy," Saeran replied shrugging off the insult and could not deny that in some part, Gandalf was right, "I suppose that it would be a redundant gesture to offer you the chance to join me?" 

  


  


Gandalf stiffened, affronted by Saeran's audacity to even ask such a question of him. His blue eyes became dark like the sky that had been suddenly shadowed by clouds. 

  


  


"I didn't think so," Saeran shrugged not waiting for an answer as he turned away and set his eyes upon Eve. Aaron tensed as the dark lord stared at his fiancée with altogether too much interest for his liking. There was an expression of curiosity and wonder on his face as he studied Eve closely that left Aaron bewildered as well as increasingly alarmed. 

  


  


"Something I can do for you?" Eve stated in typical character because she was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable by his scrutiny.

  


  


"You do bear a striking resemblance to her," Saeran said with a quiet voice that could almost have harbored awe.

  


  


"Yeah, yeah, I know," Eve returned, reminded of how Malcolm had taken an interest in her and was secretly afraid that Saeran might have the same predilections as his master. "I look like Arwen Evenstar."

  


  


"No actually," Saeran returned, his eyes still fixed upon her, enjoying in part her discomfiture but also by her startling resemblance to the lady in question. "I was thinking how much you resembled the lady Luthien."

  


  


"She is not Luthien," Gandalf stated quickly and firmly, remembering all too well how Luthien had driven Sauron from Tol Sirion during the First Age. In her day, the Evenstar was considered to be the image of Luthien, perhaps even the reincarnation of Melian's daughter. If Sauron saw her as such, he may wish to enact his vengeance of that humiliating defeat on Eve. 

  


  


"Leave her alone," Aaron found himself saying before he could stop himself. If Saeran put one hand on Eve, not even the fate of the entire world was going to stop him from killing the son of a bitch.

  


  


Saeran's gaze lingered upon Eve a moment longer. His eyes were drained of his arrogance and he spoke to her with what was akin to thoughtful admiration. "I would have you sing for me again my lady but I sense that you are not her whose voice filled Tol Sirion with the only music I have ever wished to hear again."

  


  


He stepped away from her then and Eve could not deny that she was surprised by his words. For a minute, he had almost seemed sad by the fact that she was not Luthien, an emotion she did not credit a dark lord of being capable of possessing especially when it was not borne out of vengeance. Nevertheless, his departure relaxed not only Aaron and Bryan but also Eve herself. While Aaron had not bothered to hide his outrage at Saeran's interest in Eve, Bryan had managed it rather well though his reaction had the man attempted to harm the New York policewoman would have been no less incendiary. 

  


  


"Bryan Miller," Saeran finally reached him and raised the sword to Bryan's chest, "you have caused me a great deal of trouble. Thanks to you, the Nine are at this moment somewhere in the shadow world, pulling their collectives selves back together after you blew them to pieces. You have been the wild card who has caused me to expended more resources than I cared to spare at this time. I should kill you now and rid myself of the trouble but I have a feeling the Nine will want that pleasure when they finally restore themselves to me."

  


  


"When you plan to destroy this world!" Haldir snapped, "what hindrance he has been to you would be worth its weight in gold."

  


  


"You are of no consequence to me," Saeran retorted, not even deigning to look at Haldir because his attention was still fixed on Bryan. "I have better things to do then to spar with one Galadriel's footmen."

  


  


Haldir opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by a sharp look from Gandalf, who did not want to provoke the dark lord into acting hastily. At the moment, Saeran's tirade was serving them well but it could easily escalate if the Sauron lost his temper. Haldir frowned, not liking the fact that he had to submit but Gandalf seldom impressed himself so strongly unless it was needed and as Bryan had said earlier, they had to at least feign the illusion of defeat if not surrender. 

  


  


"But I think I will kill you Bryan," Saeran continued speaking, unaware of he was in part playing into their hands. "I should have taken Caldwell's advice and done it when you refused to let go of your investigation into Black Serpent. However, I always had a weakness for you. You could have so easily been one of mine Bryan. Do you know that?"

  


  


Bryan glared back at him and said nothing. If Saeran expected a response, he was going to be disappointed. 

  


  


"Oh you can try to hide it," Saeran goaded, "but you know its true. Boromir of Gondor was almost mine. I whispered in his ear, I told him that all he had to do was take the One Ring and he could have ruled Gondor as its king, not as a mere steward. He could save his people if he just killed the Ringbearer."

  


  


"He did not," Legolas hissed, the elf was so weak he could barely stand but he would not sit by and let Saeran drag his friend's name through the dirt. Boromir had died valiantly and they had all shed tears for him when he had passed. He would not allow Saeran taint Boromir's sacrifice with his venom. "You influenced him but briefly. In the end, he died with honour."

  


  


"Honour? Is that what you call it?" Saeran sneered derisively. "You were not there elf and I was, as much as I could be that is. He was ready to tear the Ringbearer apart with his blade, to steal the One Ring like a thief. If it was not for the fact that the hobbit had more spine than I gave him credit, Boromir would have become King of Gondor. The rest of your kind who had not already fled to Valinor like frightened children, would have joined the pyre of bones I would have built in every corner of Middle Earth to celebrate his coronation."

  


  
__

Bloody hell, Bryan thought to himself as he glanced at his watch and realised that it was time, did the bastard ever get tired of hearing himself speak?

  


  


Apparently not, because he turned to Bryan once more, "so tell me Son of Gondor, what do you have to say for yourself?"

  


  


"Not much," Bryan surprised Saeran by finally responding. "Just two things really."

  


  


"Two things?" 

  


  


Bryan nodded glancing at Fred and offered her a silent assurance that everything was going to be all right before facing Saeran again "Firstly, Boromir is dead and gone, his mistakes are not mine. If anything, I’m doing what he should have; I’m going to protect the Ringbearer. You will never get your hands on her and secondly," he directed this at Aaron, "hold on."

  


  


"Hold on?" Saeran asked with an arched brow 

  


  


"Yeah," Bryan grinned as the entire building shuddered with a tremendous roar and everything went to complete hell. "It gets bumpy from here."

  


  


**********

  


  


The force of the explosion buckled the floor beneath them. There was no way to describe the sound that ripped through the air as the nitroglycerine did its worst, tearing the bowels of Saeran’s castle with devastating efficiency. It was like being in the center of a hurricane, where forces too great to be tamed, danced around them in fury. The polished floor of Saeran’s chamber lifted up in places, great fissures appearing through the marble. Around them, the structure of the building shuddered violently; support beams snapped and hit the floor, splitting the polished stone even further. There was smoke rushing through the cracks as mortar and brick, shook loose and shattered.

  


  


Bryan spun around as this confusion threw everyone off balance. The armed gunman whose weapon had been aimed at his back had been similarly disorientated and raised his hand to fire in a vain effort to stop the captive coming at him. Bryan had the advantage however, having planned how he was going to acquire a weapon the moment he became aware of who was standing where in the room. He pushed aside the outstretched arm and shoved the barrel of the gun away from him, before slamming his elbow in mid forearm and snapping the bone cleanly. Through the fallout of noise around them, the man scream was sharp and clear as Bryan took the Uzi from him and without pausing emptied an entire round of bullets into the other men present. The first recipient of this deadly hail of bullets had barely hit the debris-covered floor before Eve took his gun. 

  


  


When she heard gunfire around her, Tory sprinted forward, her only concern at this time was reaching Fred. The child was clutching the base of Saeran’s chair, frightened by the destruction around her. Tory wasted no time because she saw Irina scrambling towards the little girl. Determined that Fred was going to be no one’s prisoner again, Tory slammed her body against the woman and sent her sprawling across the uneven floor. Irina tumbled over the edge of the platform as Tory hurried past her. The little girl bolted forward without hesitation into Tory’s outstretched arms. 

  


  


"Come on," Tory said picking her up and racing away from the throne, which was now covered in dust. "Let’s find a shady spot and sit this out," she smiled warmly, planting a comforting kiss on the little girl’s fore head after her ordeal.

  


  


Aaron was also in the process of helping a friend to safety. With all the gunfire that was exploding around them, he helped Legolas to the far corner of the room. Haldir was presently introducing one of Saeran’s henchman to the finer points of elvish hand-to-hand combat. The source of his apparent instruction was the thug who had confiscated his and Legolas’ bows during their surrender. After sending the man to the floor with streak of blood across his face, Haldir took up his ancient weapon and began helping Bryan and Eve polish off the rest of Saeran’s thugs in the room. 

  


  


Aaron looked over his shoulder and found David Saeran exactly where he had anticipated this moment would have him – facing Gandalf the Grey in battle.

  


  


"Your plans are about to come to ruin Sauron," Gandalf spoke though no one was capable of hearing his word in the cacophony of gunfire and fighting. 

  


  


"This is a minor setback," Saeran replied, not about to admit defeat.

  


  


"Oh really?" Gandalf stared at him. "You and I were cut from the same cloth, I know you exert control over three who are not here. You cannot fight me and control them."

  


  


"You over estimate yourself considerably Olorin," Saeran replied, "I was able to command an army without a body, do you think you pose that much of a challenge?"

  


  


"Shall we find out?" Gandalf dared him. 

  


  


"You are a fool Olorin," Saeran shook his head almost in disgust. "Even if my control wavers today, it changes nothing. There are new pawns to be used every day. When you and the Valar left man to his own, you allowed him to forget that there are powers in this world greater than he, that there is reason to fear the consequences of his actions. He has new gods now but they are silent and impotent. When it serves him, you should see the utter beauty of what cruelty he is capable of doing in the name of his god. It makes my Orcs appear positively tame. If I do not have my kingdom today, I will have it tomorrow because men make it so easy for me to take it. They cannot stop me, no one can."

  


  


"Do not be so certain that you are completely untouchable Sauron," Gandalf replied, unaffected by his posturing. "Thanks to you and the presence of your master in this world, my lord has been forced to re-evaluate his position regarding the fate of men. Against Manwe, even _you_ are vulnerable."

  


  


"You are lying," Saeran hissed, refusing to believe him. "The Valar have been hiding like children for the past one hundred thousand years. If Iluvutar had a plan for man, the Valar's indifference has ensured that none of it came to pass. Manwe and the rest of those elitists are weak and complacent. The only thing they know how to do is keep a menagerie of pet elves. They would not know how to deal with men and their complexities, where else I do. You tell a good story old man but you have achieved nothing but shown me your desperation. All that will be accomplished today is that you; Olorin will end for all time. I will destroy you."

  


  


"You can try," Gandalf said sharply and thrust his staff at Saeran. The dark lord flew backwards into the wall, slamming so hard against the stone that his body left impression in the brick. 

  


  


"DAVID!" Irina screamed as she watched her lover flung away.

  


  


Saeran groaned slightly as he lay against the wall, the indentation caused by the impact holding him in place. "Is that the best you can do Olorin?"

  


  


With that Gandalf found himself being flung upwards towards the ceiling. Still clutching his staff, he tried to brace himself for the impact but felt the air forced out of his lungs when he hit the stone hard. The wizard felt his vision blur as every bone in his body shuddered with pain. No sooner than he had felt that crushing agony, he was plummeting to the floor again. This time, he recovered himself enough to gain some control over his descent but it was still not enough to prevent a fresh bout of agony when he hit the floor again.

  


  


Saeran was on his feet preparing to attack again but this time, Gandalf was capable of defending himself. The throne behind the dark lord shifted precariously and Saeran turned around just in time to see it flying at him. Dropping to his feet, the bottom of the ornate chair missed him by a narrow margin. It shattered against the floor, sending fragments of wood in all direction. Jumping to his feet again, he faced Gandalf and this time the wizard felt himself spinning in mid air and hurtling towards the open balcony. 

  


  


"Goodbye Olorin," Saeran called out after him as he flew uncontrollably towards the window. 

  


  


"Don’t say your farewells just yet," Aaron suddenly appeared behind Saeran and swung the hilt of Anduril against the dark lord’s body. The ornate iron grip struck Saeran’s body hard and drove him to the floor, breaking his concentration enough so that Gandalf’s journey to his death was abruptly halted. Gandalf dropped like a stone and landed mere inches away from the open balcony doors. 

  


  
  
Saeran uttered a little groan of pain but his mind was already preparing his retaliatory attack. Aaron’s feet were suddenly swept from under him when the dark lord stood up shakily. Aaron felt the back of his head hit the polished floor and reeled with disorientation from the pain. When his vision cleared as he saw Saeran standing over him, Anduril in his hand, raising the weapon in readiness to strike.

  


  


"I had planned to keep you alive but I suppose I will have to be content with your lady," Saeran said softly. "She really is a vision of Luthien and perhaps in time, she will sing for me."

  


  


"Like hell you will!" Aaron scrambled to his feet just as Saeran brought down the blade. He felt Anduril slash past him by the barest fraction and the blade cracked the floor with a loud clang of metal. Aaron kicked out his foot and planted it in Saeran’s knee, bringing the man down. Hopefully that would give Aaron enough time to get away. Aaron had not planned to fight Saeran but when he saw what the man was about to do to Gandalf, Aaron was throwing himself into their battle without second thought. 

  


  


Meanwhile, Eve and Haldir were at the doorway, preventing any more of Saeran’s men from invading the room. The explosion had unhinged one of the doors and left an opening that was vulnerable to penetrated by more of Saeran’s men. Both were barricading the door with a wall of bullets and arrows. Haldir was had not only his own quiver slung over his shoulder but Legolas’ store as well. Eve was firing with two Uzis, her eyes squinting in reaction to deafening roar of discharging bullets that was escaping the barrel of the machine gun. Gandalf was still recuperating from the battle and knew that the only chance they had of stopping Saeran from destroying Arda in a inferno of destruction was if he stood up and went to face the lord of Mordor again.

  


  


Aaron had not taken more than a few steps when he felt the same force sweeping his legs from under him. He slammed onto the floor hard and felt more blood escaping from his earlier wounds. He tried to move but found himself being pulled across the floor towards Saeran. He tried to turn around but his efforts resulted in his being spun around again and this time he landed on his chest, feeling his ribs ache at the hard landing. He came to a halt at Saeran’s feet, too much in pain to be able to do anything but to lie there helplessly as he was pulled upright like a marionette with strings attached to skilled puppeteer.

  


  


"What were you thinking?" Saeran asked him as he dangled inches over the floor before Saeran. "Did you think that having Aragorn Elessar’s soul would make you equal to me? I could have killed you a dozen times over and considered it only a slight exertion. How dare you presume to think that because I am wearing this shell of flesh that I am one of you? I am nowhere that weak!" 

  


  


Aaron could watch only helplessly as Saeran held him in his grip, preparing to plunge the sword into his body when suddenly, salvation came with a familiar Yorkshire accent.

  


  


"Let’s see about that, shall we?" Bryan stated as he slipped his arm across Saeran’s neck and enclosed the dark lord’s throat in a powerful neck lock.

  


  


"What is it this!" Saeran choked out indignantly, as Bryan dragged him backwards, away from Aaron. 

  


  


Free of Saeran’s hold, Aaron tumbled to the floor, landing on his knees as he saw Bryan keeping a firm grip around Saeran’s throat, holding on for dear life. The enemy stumbled backwards and tried to slam Bryan into the wall in order to be free of the chokehold but the M16 agent was not about to relinquish his grip for anything. Aaron watched as both of them were hurtling towards the wall, with Bryan bearing the brunt of the impact. However, Bryan did not let go. 

  


  


"Release me!" Saeran shouted, trying to exert his power to dislodge Bryan but the human would not yield. If anything, his efforts made Bryan more determined. 

  


  


"Not a chance mate," Bryan grunted struggling to maintain his whole against Saeran’s own formidable strength. "Its safer where I am."

  


  
  
Suddenly, Bryan was hurtling across the room. Saeran became more determined to remove Bryan’s viselike grip from his throat and flung him clear across the chamber. Unfortunately, Saeran had not counted on the tenaciousness of the man in maintaining his grip because he was soon making the journey with Bryan. As they rushed towards the wall, Bryan’s eyes widened at the realization that Saeran intended for him to be point of impact. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the collision. However, shutting out the sight of what coming at him did little to lessen the pain. He felt a shoulder pop as he slammed against the stone, causing a pain so intense that Bryan almost cried out but sheer stubbornness kept him from he relinquishing his grip.

  


  


"LET ME GO!" Saeran screamed hoarsely as the pressure on his windpipe continued, turning the air in his lungs, stale, with no hope of replenishment.

  


  


"Like bloody hell, I will," Bryan retorted, feeling his eyes water from agony. He could feel bone grinding against bone as he moved his shoulder and the sensation was enough to induce a surge of nausea from someone with as strong sensibilities as he. 

  


  


After slamming against the wall, both Bryan and Saeran dropped to the ground, landing hard on their sides. Bryan kept the pressure against Saeran’s throat, compelling the dark lord to fight for every breath of air. However, Saeran was strong and it was taking all of Bryan’s strength to keep maintain his chokehold. The former lord of Mordor struggled desperately against the strangulating arm across his throat and reacted violently, sending Bryan against the ceiling this time. 

  


  


If he could not shake the human free, then he would break every bone in Bryan’s body until he was released. Once again, he became an unwilling passenger as Bryan was borne into the air once more. This time, Saeran intended to split his skull open against the stone ceiling and crush what was left of his body into pulp. Bryan saw what Saeran had planned for him and steeled himself for the impact but knew if he could not bear the brunt of it; he was going to die. Unfortunately, it made little difference whether or not he released Saeran to save himself. 

  


  


Saeran would kill him the moment he was free.

  


  


From the floor of the chamber, Aaron saw Bryan speeding towards the ceiling and realised what Saeran intended. If Bryan did not release Saeran, he was going to be killed. 

  


  


"Gandalf!" Aaron turned to the wizard who was on his feet now, recovering from the battering he had received at Saeran’s hand. "If he hits that wall, it will kill him."

  


  


"I know," Gandalf agreed and quickly raised his staff towards them two men. 

  


  


Instead of colliding into the ceiling, Bryan found himself being dragged downwards. Fortunately, the angle of his descent was not steep and it appeared as if he was being brought to a gradual landing. Saeran was still struggling hard to be free of him but Bryan could sense a weakening in his efforts. No doubt, the dark lord would be finding it incredibly hard to breathe by now. As the floor rushed towards them both, Bryan braced himself for the rough landing and was rewarded for his efforts with a return to the ground that was not quite as fatal as he had feared. Both men were dragged across the debris covered floor and Bryan grit his teeth as shards of rock tore past the fabric of his jacket to break skin.

  


  


"Release me!" Saeran demanded again and it gave Bryan some measure of hope that his efforts were beginning to wear upon the ancient spirit because there was just a hint of desperation in his plea.

  


  


"Not a chance mate," Bryan hissed as he continued to pull his arm harder across Saeran's throat. He heart the man gasped as more of the remaining air in his lung was forced out. 

  


  


They had no more come to a stop when suddenly; Bryan was being thrashed from side to side against the floor. Saeran was flogging his body against the polished marble surface, creating new pains across Bryan's body each time he landed. Bryan felt his injured shoulder flaring in agony; fell bruises forming on his back, felt ribs crack and fresh contusions on his skull when his head hit the floor. He knew he was bleeding, he could feel its warm beneath his hair. Saeran slammed his head backwards in a more physical effort to break free; his skull smashed against Bryan's nose and blood was soon running down the Englishman's face.

  


  


Aaron saw the terrible pounding that Bryan was taking and hoped that he could handle it. He watched as Bryan hung on to Saeran for dear life, like the rodeo rider who suddenly discovered that the bull he was riding was too much for him. The effect of the chokehold was starting to show on Saeran however. He was no longer using his powers to dislodge Bryan and was trying desperately to elbow him away. Aaron saw some of these strikes connect but Bryan was a man determined and took this blows without relenting. His determination to hold on no matter what proved to Aaron that Bryan was the only one who could do this.

  


  


Bryan was trained to kill. He knew how to prolong a death and he knew how to end it fast. The chokehold that was slowly suffocating David Saeran had to be applied very specifically. It could not be a typical strangulation, which was over very quickly. More than just the air passages had to be blocked, the carotid artery had to be damaged enough to prevent sufficient oxygen reaching the brain. Bryan was the only one of them who knew how to do this. As much as Aaron hated to see him enduring this terrible punishment by keeping the arm lock around Saeran's throat, Aaron also knew it was the only way they could end the threat of the dark lord.

  


  


He prayed that in forcing this upon Saeran, the lord of Mordor did not take Bryan with him.

  


  


**********

  


  


Xiang put down the telephone attached to the console bench behind which he was seated; feeling somewhat unsettled by the conversation he had concluded abruptly with his superiors. 

  


  


He had been in the midst of completing the relay that would initiate the launch sequence despite the fact that it required more than one person to complete the task when the telephone had rung. He should have ignored it but the ringing grew more insistent and made it difficult for him to complete the work, so he had answered it. He soon discovered that the person on the other end of the line was General Tien, his immediate superior and a personal friend and mentor. Tien had been his commanding officer for many years and had been responsible for his posting the Luoning facility.

  


  


Of course Tien did not understand, even when Xiang tried to explain it to him. He had told his mentor how the Americans had paid his mistress Ming to trick him into revealing vital secrets about the installation. Secrets, that China had guarded fiercely ever since it began its nuclear program. Because of the Americans, he was no longer a decorated career officer with a bright future. They had turned him instead into a traitor who would most likely be shot once the truth about what he had done was known to all.

  


  


Tien tried desperately to convince him that it was all a mistake. Hours after the surveillance report regarding her telephone conversation had reached Beijing; Ming was arrested by local authorities and placed under heavy interrogation. During the sessions, she revealed that she did not at all work for the Americans, but rather for a secret terrorist organization that until now had been the subject of rumor and whispers. She was a creature of the Black Serpent, bought and paid for the span of nearly five years. Her infiltration into his life was so precise that even the powers that be understood that he was not at fault. He had nothing to fear from their retribution.

  


  


Xiang absorbed all this information with disbelief because he knew that Tien was desperate to keep him from launching the missiles. The old man would do anything to save the homeland and when Xiang hung up the phone in his ear, there was an instant where it would have been so easy to let Tien convince him that all was forgiven. Unfortunately, whether or not Tien was telling the truth, it made little difference now. His career was still in ruins because he had killed to arrive at this place in time. He had murdered his own people and now he was on the edge of the precipice looking down into a dark abyss from which there was no return. 

  


  


It did not matter even if he believed Tien that the Americans were not responsible for the oblivion he now faced. He had to salvage what was left of his honor and if the only way to do it was to sacrifice millions, that was a small price to pay was it not? Xiang looked at the keys awaiting him in their respective slots on the control panel. One turn of each key and the world would know that he was China’s greatest patriot, a warrior who dared to sacrifice his life to make a bold exclamation of his nation’s power. 

  


  


One turn of the key and everything would change, wouldn’t it?

  


  


For the first time since he had embarked upon this course, the tiny voice in his head telling him that this was the right thing to do was strangely silent and in its silence, Xiang began to feel doubt creeping in on him. 

  


  


This was all for the best, wasn’t it?

  


  


***************

  


  


Bryan felt the wall against his back as Saeran slammed them both into it, using him as a shield against injury. The pain was all encompassing and he wanted nothing more than to release this tiger whose tail he was clinging to very precariously. However, he thought of everyone he cared about, the strange group whom had come to mean more to him in the past week than anyone else in his life these years, with the exception of Frank of course. He thought of Fred, the little girl who reminded him for the first time in too long, what it was like to care about someone else other than himself. He would not let Saeran hurt her. He would endure this agony for all time if necessary to see her free of this monster once and for all. Saeran had murdered her parents and ruined any chance Fred would ever have for a normal life and for that he would pay.

  


  


"Bryan," Saeran managed to speak, squeezing his voice past his blocked through in hoarse whisper. The dark lord paused in his struggles and Bryan took the moment to catch his breath. "Let me go." Saeran pleaded, "let me go and I will give you anything you want. You can sit at my right hand and rule at my side. I always had a place for you in my kingdom, you only need to release me to take it."

  


  


Bryan could feel the weakness in his body, could feel the lack of air beginning to suffocate more than just his lungs. Saeran's words were slurred, his brain was beginning to shut down by the lack of oxygen. It was almost done but all that black malevolence would not allow the dark lord to admit defeat, not without one last effort to save his life. However, Bryan had to respond to Saeran's efforts. 

  


  


"There is something I want from you," Bryan said, aware that all eyes in the room were now fixed upon him. 

  


  


"What is it?" Saeran chocked out a reply, his face was turning a shade purple.

  


  


"Fred's parents," Bryan said with a cold smile. "If you can bring them back to life, I might consider it."

  


  


Saeran let out a hoarse cry of rage and threw Bryan back into the wall once more, his movements becoming desperate and frantic. If Bryan had been able to look at his face, he would have realised that Saeran's eyes were rolling back into his skull that his gasps for air were reaching crescendo. He clawed desperately at Bryan's arm once more, nails digging into flesh in order to prise it loose but the grip was unrelenting. 

  


  


"You think this will stop me!" Saeran croaked. "Kill me and I will free of this body, nothing more. Then what are you going to do? You think this pathetic effort is going to save the lives of your precious Ringbearer? When I am finished with her, you will be begging me to kill her just to stop her torment but not before I split your belly open!" 

  


  


Bryan ignored him, knowing that Saeran's rage was borne out of desperation and futility. The dark lord was becoming weaker, the fight in him waning as his efforts to pound Bryan into the wall become less jarring, until he could barely move. When Saeran's knees buckled, Bryan almost tumbled to the floor with him but the MI6 agent managed to stay on his feet as Saeran became limp in his grip. A final croak escaped his mouth before he fell against the marble. Only when he had landed against the hard floor, his face almost violet with discolouration and saliva running down the corner of his lip, only then did Bryan finally release David Saeran.

  


  


Aaron and Gandalf raced forward as soon as Saeran was on the floor. Bryan staggered backwards, stopping only when he felt the wall behind his back and letting it support his weight as he slid down to the floor, exhausted. Around him the fighting had stopped. Smoke was rising through the fissures in the floor. Eve and Haldir were keeping watch at the door, to ensure they were not interrupted even though it appeared that Saeran's men were no longer attempting to help their master. Bryan could feel the heat against the floor and knew that the fire would soon reach them here. They had to leave and soon but not before they dealt with Saeran.

  


  


"Bryan!" Fred cried out, appearing from the corner where she and Tory had safely taken refuge. 

  


  


The little girl ran into his arms before Bryan could warn her that he was hurt. However, the plain simple joy in her embrace forced the thought out of his mind and he held her tight, unable to believe how good it felt to know that she was safe. He looked up as he was holding Fred and saw Tory approach. There were tears in her eyes, tears of happiness that he had survived his ordeal with Saeran. She knelt down next to him as he held Fred, taking his hand in hers and squeezed tight.

  


  


"You look terrible," she said with a smile but her eyes were worried.

  


  


"I feel it too," he replied, reaching for his nose and wiping away the blood with his sleeve.

  


  


"Is he dead?" Tory asked, her gaze shifting her gaze to Aaron and Gandalf were looming over the still form of David Saeran.

  


  


"Yeah," Aaron nodded, meeting Bryan's gaze. "He's dead."

  


  


"Won't he escape his body?" Tory asked.

  


  


"Not if I can help it," Gandalf replied and for the first time, Tory noticed that Gandalf was not merely standing over Saeran but was concentrating hard. His bushy grey eyebrows were noted with focus as his eyes clamped shut. "He is yet to emerge from his shell but it will not be long."

  


  


"You have to hold him in there for at least eight minutes," Aaron said as the doctor searched the room for his medical bag. He had seen it with one of Saeran's men when they had brought Eve and the others in. No doubt, Eve had been forced to part with it when they had surrendered to the enemy. It did not take him long to spot the worn leather bad and at the sight of it, Aaron was up and running.

  


  


"Eight minutes?" Tory looked at Bryan in question as Aaron went to retrieve his bag.

  


  


"Eight minutes, no sooner or its all for nothing," Bryan sighed staring at Saeran.

  


  


Aaron returned to them with his medical bag and kneeled down next to Saeran. The doctor reached into the bag after opening it and produced a statoscope.

  


  


"What happens in eight minutes?" Tory had to ask.

  


  


"I resuscitate him," Aaron explained shortly as he pulled open Saeran's eyelids and examined his pupils in quick succession. "His left pupil is dilated," he commented to no one in particular as he exposed Saeran's bare chest and held the statoscope against his flesh. Aaron listened for a moment before meeting Bryan's gaze. "There's no pulse, he's dead."

  


  


"I'm glad to hear it," Bryan replied slackening his posture against the wall behind him, needing to rest. His shoulder ached and he was certain he was covered with bruises and cuts. "Now what?"

  


  


"Now we wait for eight minutes," Aaron replied and reached into his bag once more. "That should be more than enough time for irreversible brain damage. Hypoxia should have well and truly set in. He'll be in a vegetative state but that's what we want?"

  


  


"But he's telepathic," Tory declared trying to wrap her mind around what Aaron and Bryan had devised long before this moment. "If he's controlling those men…"

  


  


"He may be telepathic but he still has to use his neural receptors the way we do. Damage those and it doesn't matter how powerful he is, he won't be able to reach them. When I treated Gandalf, John Malcolm had placed some kind of mental block inside his mind that made sure Gandalf would never remember who he was. It was block I couldn't break and because of it, the Valar couldn't sense him. They couldn't sense his power because it was trapped inside a brain that could no longer project it. What we're doing here, is virtually the same thing. Saeran may be a powerful dark lord but if the body he is wearing is brain damaged, none of that power can escape him."

  


  


Suddenly, Gandalf gasped and everyone turned to the old man whose eyes were clamped shut. He was holding his staff in his hands so tightly that his knuckles were turning white from the exertion. Gandalf opened his eyes and uttered in a strained voice.

  


  


"It begins."

  


  


**************

  


  


There was a battle raging, one that none of those in the chamber of David Saeran could see with their eyes but had no doubt of its existence.

  


  


The elves could sense the stirring of great powers in their midst, could feel the slight tremors in the physical world of the battle taking place in a more incorporeal realm. It was a contest as old as time, of wills that had lived long before Ea had become a reality. In a place that none could see, Olorin, known throughout the ages, as the Grey Pilgrim, Mithrandir, Gandalf the Grey and more recently Moses, found himself facing perhaps the greatest test of his powers in his long existence. In that shadow realm where none save the Maiar and the Valar could see, Olorin pitted himself against the power of Sauron, chief agent of Melkor and former Lord of Mordor,

  


  


To those who lived their lives in their confinement of flesh, the battle was beyond physical world, beyond their ability to comprehend. Sheer will hurling itself against one another, a thrust and parry of power where the would did not bleed but diminished the whole nonetheless. It tore open the fabric of space and time, slashed to ribbons the fragile boundaries of the soul and the world, though unable to see the battle, sensed the destruction and groaned in protest.

  


  
__

"How long?" A distant voice asked. 

  


  


"Six minutes," came the reply. 

  


  


It felt like the echo from the bottom of a deep well and though Olorin could only acknowledge its existence in passing. His attention was too fixated on the task at hand. 

  


  


"What is the point of all this?" Sauron's voice eclipsed all others in his hearing. "You cannot hold me here." 

  


  


The form of Sauron was a great lidless eyes, breathed in flame. Olorin stared at the angry tongue of flame, burning with intensity and felt himself reeling at the power of the enemy. After a hundred thousand years, he had almost forgotten what it was like to see Sauron in this form. It seemed so much more potent that the bright orb of light that was he in this place

  


  


It had been a long time since Olorin had felt this freedom, since the days of before the Second Age when he had first been charged by Manwe to make the crossing from Valinor to Middle, so long since he had assumed the shape of Gandalf the Grey. Power surged through him as he had never felt it before and he knew that in its earthly confinement, he could never truly be all himself. And yet even as the thought crossed his mind, Olorin missed the simple joy of feeling air in one lungs, pf tasting fine wine and having to squint because the sun's rays were too bright for his eyes. These sensations he craved even now and knew he would miss if it were taken from him.

  


  


"I will hold you until the end of all if need be!" Olorin bellowed back as his form spread out wide, refusing to allow Sauron to escape him.

  


  
__

"Gandalf, can you hold him?" The voice spoke again "We're almost there!"

  


  


Olorin recognise the voice as being that of Aaron's and took courage from the assurance in that voice, hurtling more power at Sauron, driving him back into the darkness. The threshold was within sight, a more fragile layer than most knew that kept the physical world and the realms beyond it apart. If Sauron reached that barrier, he would escape the confines of his body and that would effectively end Aaron's efforts to trap the dark lord. Sauron roared indignantly as Olorin's strength forced him into retreat. The shock of being repelled so forcibly had stoked a fire of rage through the enemy.

  


  


"You do not have the power to defeat me!" Sauron shouted and in this place, his voice was like thunder. "Curunir knew his to be true! Why do you think he was willing to serve me?"

  


  
  
"Curunir was destroyed by his own arrogance!" Olorin replied, using his own anger to empower his attacks against Sauron. "It had little to do with you!"

  


  


"He was my pawn!" Sauron sneered triumphantly, "I used him by whispering to him in dark, of offering him possibilities that he could be more than just a servant of the Valar, that he could be master himself. It was so easy because he hated you so much!" 

  


  


"You lie!" Olorin shouted in despair. For years, he believed that the study of evil had made Curunir vulnerable to its trappings. It was a terrible road of self destruction that Curunir had taken because of the One Ring. Curunir was always so confident in himself, he had simply miscalculated his vulnerability to Sauron's master ring. Yet, deep inside, he knew that there was some kernel of truth to Sauron's words that Curunir had envied him. From the debate as to who should be in charge of the order to Cirdan's gift of the Narya, the Red Ring or Fire, Curunir had reason to detest him.

  


  


Knowing that he had played some part in Curunir's destruction wounded him and gave Sauron the advantage. The dark lord attacked once again, spewing forth waves and waves of power at Olorin, until he was driven himself to the edge of the threshold. The breathing eyes was surging forward, fire and heat radiating in all directions. Olorin knew that if Sauron escaped, everyone he cared for, whose lives even now hung in the balance would die. Sauron would kill them and those he did not kill would suffer a far greater agony that death.

  


  
__

"Hold on Gandalf!" The voice pleaded through the distance, "just a little longer!" 

  


  


"NO!" Olorin threw himself into the fray, using every pounce of strength he could muster to prevent Sauron from crossing that gulf. Their forms collided like exploding suns, with such brilliant intensity that there was no one corner of that realm that was not filled with the brilliance of their titanic struggle. 

  


  


"You cannot stop me!" Sauron shouted as he was hurled back from the edge. "You are not strong enough! You were never strong enough!" 

  


  


The flaming eye was advancing again, more black power flowing through its form, building into a burst of strength Olorin was uncertain he could withstand. It absorbed all other light around, nourishing itself, until the eye breathed in the fires of all darkness was all Olorin could see. It loomed over him, terrible and awesome, until he was nothing more than a speck in its presence. Olorin saw it and knew that he would end because he could not fight the thing before him. 

  


  


Sauron spoke, his voice like thunder. "Let me pass or prepare to end for all time Olorin."

  


  


Olorin felt fear but he would not stand aside, he _could not_ stand aside. If he died here, if his existence vanished into nothingness, he would go into the afterlife whatever it may be knowing that he had done so for the best of causes. 

  


  


To save his friends.

  


  


"NO," Olorin shouted defiantly. "YOU WILL NOT PASS!" 

  


  


Sauron reeled with fury and then exploded towards Olorin, preparing to obliterate the servant of Manwe. Olorin held himself firm, ready for the assault and whatever consequences came of it. He saw Sauron coming towards him, until it became his whole world, until nothing else could be seen but his impending death in the fires of that terrible, lidless eye. He could feel the heat against him, could feel the strands of his life being cut. It was a strange disconcerting sensation but there was also great clarity of knowing that one's future was no longer a mystery.

  


  


A loud scream of indignation tore through his consciousness and forced Olorin to cast his gaze upon Sauron. The eye was no longer advancing. In fact it was retreating. A force greater than Sauron was forcing the dark lord back into the darkness, pulling the boundary out of his reach forever. Sauron struggled hard against the tide but its power could not be denied and he was actually screaming to be free of the dark tendrils snaking over the crimson flames of his form. It was as if the shadows had risen up and were claiming vengeful spirit for his own, dragging him screaming into the black.

  


  


"NO!" Sauron howled in despair. "I will not go!" 

  


  


Olorin stared for a moment, uncertain of what was happening. He had been prepared to die but it appeared that salvation had come from an unexpected quarter.

  


  
__

"I've given him 50 cc's of adrenaline!" The disembodied voice shouted excitedly.

  


  


"Olorin!" Sauron continued to scream as the black continued to swallow him whole, "you cannot do this! You cannot imprison me like this! I am the Lord of Mordor! I am one of you! The Void is better than this! OLORIN, HELP ME!" 

  


  


"You chose Melkor's for yourself," Olorin found himself saying as he saw the terrible blackness engulfing the crimson flames, until only the slit of an iris could be seen through the dark, "now you must follow him into utter ruin."

  


  


And with that, the great eye of Sauron disappeared into oblivion.

  


  


***********

  


[Back to List](http://astele.co.uk/henneth/Chapter)


	20. Epilogue: Full Circle (cont)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

  


The journey to Valinor took almost two months but unlike the last return home, there was an underlying atmosphere of tension running through all of them at being so close in proximity to David Saeran’s comatose form. The dark lord remained in his limbo state, kept under tight scrutiny by both Gandalf and Aaron who ensured all the medical equipment attached to the man kept him harmless. Gandalf assured Aaron that if Sauron even to show even the slightest hint of stirring, the Maia would know first. However, that still did not alleviate Aaron’s discomfort at having the man so close. They were on a vessel in the middle of the ocean; it was hardly the place to combat David Saeran if he chose to awake.

  


  


Strangely enough, the only person who had little difficulty being in his company other than Gandalf was Fred. The child had kept her visits to the former Lord of Mordor a secret because she knew Bryan and Tory would not be happy about it. However, she was determined to see him nonetheless. While she was certain Gandalf knew of her visits because he was a great wizard like Professor Dumbledore and even Harry Potter could never hide anything from him. Still, Gandalf never made mention of it to her. Fred would enter the room at night, when everyone thought she was in bed and see the enemy lying on the bed, oblivious to everything including her presence. 

  


  


Then Fred would close her eyes and go to sleep in the big chair because when she did, she could hear him. 

  


  


She could hear Saeran or rather Sauron.

  


  


He was still there inside his head but only when she was near like this. Fred would visit him in his cage, peering through walls and walls of bars that surrounded him as he struggled helplessly in his prison. Sometimes he would curse at her and tell her all the terrible things he would do to her but Fred was not afraid. She was no longer afraid because she had experienced him in the reality and in the strange limbo where they could speak, his words no longer had any power over her. She would simply stare at him with a little smile, knowing that her presence would serve to make him angrier and his impotent threats were as sweet as the vengeance he had meant to exact from her. Fred would remain there for a time, listening to him rant and rave before withdrawing once again, leaving him with a parting farewell that was a sharp as any blade.

  


  


"Tomorrow," she would say and he would scream in despair and fury because he knew he would be there waiting.

  


  
  
He could go nowhere else.

  


  


***********

  


  


Valinor did not fail to disappoint when Bryan and Tory arrived on the shores of the Undying lands after entering the Bay of Eldamar. From the moment they had stepped on the island, they were swept up in a world beyond their reckoning. He was apparently known to the elves and though he had reconciled himself to the fact that he was once Boromir of Gondor, meeting people who only knew of his previous incarnation was rather daunting. With Legolas and Haldir, it had been easier to endure since he had formed a kinship with them. One did not go through what they did together without forging lasting friendships even if Legolas had extended it to him initially because of whom he had been.

  


  


An elven artist had committed to canvas images of the third age and Bryan saw for the first time the Fellowship that Legolas and Gandalf spoke so fondly about. He recognized Aragorn Elessar immediately, although it was difficult to identify the worn adventurer, with his long hair and unshaven face, with the man he knew as Aaron Stone. Gandalf and Legolas appeared the same. The dwarf Gimli, whom Legolas spoke of in quiet tones, brought a smile to Bryan’s face because he could imagine the man being quite the bruiser. He could not imagine two unlikelier companions but the grief he saw in Legolas eyes spoke differently. 

  


  


It took some getting used to seeing Fred as Frodo Baggins. The Ringbearer who had destroyed the One Ring looked fragile even for a hobbit. Sad blue eyes that Bryan knew all too well stared at him and though the image reflected was unmistakably masculine and considerably older than the little girl whose life he had almost died to protect, there was no mistaking the connection. The dark hair, the blue eyes that seemed to capture light and even the delicately shaped features, all of it was Frodo Baggins but it was also Fred Bailey.

  


  


However it was not as much of surprise when he sighted the rest of the hobbits. For a minute he thought he was seeing things but he knew he wasn’t. It all fit in with Eve’s crazy theory about cosmic turntables and how fate seemed to throw the same people together. He supposed he was going to have to take Fred to see his nephews, one day since they were not strangers, at least not in this life. The final member of the Fellowship was the one he had delayed most seeing. However, curiosity got the better of him and Bryan found himself looking at the image of Boromir of Gondor.

  


  


The first thing that struck Bryan about Boromir, were his eyes. Physically, they were identical but Boromir seemed so tired. In all the years that Bryan had been in the service, he never thought he had ever been so worn down. Legolas had explained that Boromir had sacrificed almost all aspects of a life to defend his people and when Bryan looked into the man’s eyes he could well believe it. All he knew was war and the constant threat that Gondor would be attacked by the enemies in Mordor. Bryan wondered what it would be like to be weighted with that kind of responsibility and found that upon seeing the portrait, was able to understand his Middle Earth incarnation a little better.

  


  


Despite the emotional upheavals he endured, Valinor was still an amazing place and as they made their way to the city of Tirion where most of the Noldor elves lived, including Elrond, Legolas and Galadriel, the lady to whom Haldir had pledged his life to serve, Bryan could not help feeling completely overwhelmed. Fortunately, he had good friends who made the transition easier and he was never more grateful to Aaron than at that first few days in the enchanted land because the doctor had been in exactly the same predicament himself more than a year ago. Aaron was more than happy to explain things to both he and Tory while Fred, unsurprisingly accepted her new surroundings with the ease that came naturally with being a child.

  


  


At Tirion, Aaron and Eve returned to the house of Elrond whom Aaron had explained to be the father of Eve’s previous incarnation. He met her brothers Elladan and Elrohir and got on famously with the latter who had missed terribly the opportunity to go abroad and wanted to know all the news of the modern world. Bryan decided to introduce him to Yorkshire beer instead. Legolas and his wife Ariel, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, offered Bryan, Tory and Fred the hospitality of new home for as long as they liked. This was followed by the news that work would begin immediately on constructing a home for the Ringbearer and her guardians. Aside from the fact that children were rare and were therefore a delight to all elves, it appeared that they had not forgotten the service of Frodo Baggins to the fate of world in the Third Age. 

  


  


For all time, the Ringbearer would have a place in Valinor.

  


  


In the meantime, Gandalf travelled to the other side of the island after the Valar’s judgement decreed that the David Saeran should be imprisoned in the halls of Mandos for the span of his mortal life, the termination of which would see a new sentence for his non-corporeal self. It was the first time a captive had been brought to Mandos since before the First Age. Melkor’s lieutenant, though not one of the outcast Valar, was no less dangerous. The Valar were reluctant to obliterate him as they had done so irrevocably to his master almost a year ago but neither were they going to allow him the opportunity to escape that Melkor had taken when they had dared to be merciful.

  


  


As long as he existed, Sauron would know imprisonment. 

  


  


In the meantime, Elrond received the new of Eve’s wedding plans with great pleasure and for the excitement of their return home was replaced by the fanfare of a wedding. Although Aaron and Eve had wanted something simple, there was no way they were going to take the most important vows of their lives with any minimum of extravagance. Celebrian had firmly declared that they were going to get the wedding _she deserved_ since she been absent for the nuptials of Aragorn and Arwen Evenstar in the Third Age and her patience was a well dry, waiting for either Elladan or Elrohir to wed.

  


  


Elrond’s efforts to intercede on their behalf were met with a stern glare before the lady returned to her planning. 

  


  


********

  


  


The wedding when it finally came was a grand affair indeed. It appeared that just about everyone in Tirion was in attendance with people dancing in the streets, singing, drinking, although in Bryan’s opinion the quality of elven draughts were not that dissimilar from American beer and once again, was grateful that he had his own store. The couple were wedded in fairy tale splendour, with flower petals streaming through the air as they walked to what was the elvish equivalent of a wedding march. The ceremony seemed to involve a great feast celebrated by the bride and groom’s family and an exchange of rings.

  


  


Aaron appeared decidedly uncomfortable in the clothes he was given to wear but put up with it to please his new mother in law who had become quite insane in the weeks leading to the actual ceremony. Bryan did not envy him and no amount of cajoling by Legolas or Ariel, (Tory had good sense not to bother) would convince him to wear anything that looked remotely burgundy or came in a robe, to attend the festivities. Eve however looked nothing like the tough woman who had fought the Nine and Uruk Hai at his side on her wedding day. For the first time since he arrived in Valinor, he actually saw her resembling the Evenstar whose portrait hung in Elrond’s house. She was easily the most beautiful woman, elf or human that anyone had ever seen and when Aaron looked at her, it was obvious to everyone that he thought the same too.

  


  


************

  


  


"Well you’re married now," Bryan congratulated him after the formal part of the festivities was concluded. Guests were now free to move about and Aaron had taken a moment away from Eve who was surrounded by a gaggle of women including Ariel and Tory, to catch his breath after the heady events. 

  


  


"Yeah," Aaron looked around at the faces gathered and said with a completely straight face, "we should have eloped."

  


  


"Your mother in-law would have disembowelled you before you even reached the door," Legolas remarked standing next to him.

  


  


"I know," Aaron nodded in agreement as she saw Celebrian presiding over the celebrations, trying to make everything perfect and thoroughly enjoying it at the same time.

  


  


"Fortunately," Elrohir grinned, "she will now leave us alone for a century or two before she feels it necessary to find harass us into finding a mate again. I am certain it is the wedding she likes more than either of us marrying."

  


  


"That’s women for you," Bryan laughed but he was enjoying this occasion a great deal more than he cared to admit. Who would have thought that he could be happy in an elven paradise?

  


  


Suddenly, Gandalf who had been talking to Elrond and Galadriel captured the attention of all the revellers when he stood up from his seat at the table and called for quiet. The rumble of merrymaking guests soon simmered into nothingness as everyone turned their gaze to the respected messenger of Manwe as well as one of their greatest heroes. Gandalf who was now dressed in white looked very much the herald of the Valar as his playful gaze made contact with Aaron and Eve in quick succession and began speaking in his usual commanding tone. 

  


  


"It has been my privilege to be partially responsible for the presence of the celebrants of this happy occasion among us. Aaron and Eve have come to us from the world beyond, the world we left behind, having risked life and limb to banish the threat, twice now, of great evil. First in the form of Morgoth, where Aaron allowed me to return home and for which I will be eternally grateful and our most recent adventures in bringing Sauron to justice."

  


  


A low murmur of agreement and applause followed which made Aaron feel like disappearing into the ground and as he met Eve’s gaze, could see that she was similarly embarrassed by the flush of red across her cheeks. 

  


  


"I wish your union all the happiness that can be afforded in this life and all others in the future. I have no doubt that you two will find each other whatever the age."

  


  


The round of enthusiastic applause forced Eve to join Aaron and he took her hand warmly as they listened to the rest of Gandalf’s toast. 

  


  


"However, I speak not only on this occasion to present my best wishes for my friends but also because of duty. I am not alone in wishing to express myself on this joyous occasion."

  


  


He appeared to them a man in his late fifties, dignified in his appearance, a stature of greatness and beauty that could not be defined in any earthly sense. Aaron had thought him to be one of Elrond’s kin because he was treated with great respect and reverence. He reminded Aaron a little of Sean Connery but more regal in a way that could not be truly explained simply felt. It appeared only Galadriel was unsurprised by Gandalf’s statement while the others who now knew who he was, dropped their heads in reverence. 

  


  


It took no feat of genius to realise that Gandalf’s master had decided to make a personal appearance at his wedding and as Aaron found himself staring at a living god, the Valar called Manwe, he understood why Saeran had been such an upstart. After seeing the real thing, Aaron would never again be duped by an impostor claiming to be a god or a demi-god for that matter.

  


  


"I offer you my fond greetings to you Aaron, bearer of the soul that was once Aragorn Elessar, the Elfstone and to you my dear," he gazed warmly at Eve, his voice was lyrical and very much a component of the Great Music. "Eve, who was once Arwen Evenstar, who proved so poignantly that love tolerates no barriers, not between elf nor humankind, life or death. It pleases me and mine greatly to know that you are now with your kin. For long years, I have seen your father’s sorrow and it is to the grace of Iluvutar that we at last know that the souls of men have their own immortality for you are now returned to us."

  


  


Aaron wondered if he was being presumptuous but he sensed that Manwe had not appeared at his wedding simply to offer a wedding toast, there was more to this appearance than met the eye. 

  


  


"Your arrival in Valinor was the breaking of an oath made long ago that no man should step upon the shores of the Undying Land for yours was a fate not known to us when you passed and we feared interfering in Iluvutar’s plan for you. Of late, I think that perhaps we may have been hasty in this decision to leave man to his fate because like all of us, you are also his children and we, the Valar, would be remiss to care for one child while ignoring the other. Thus, from this day forth all of Iluvutar’s children will be welcome on this shores."

  


  


The statement was a shocking one because no one was certain of what it really meant. Fortunately, Manwe knew his audience and began to address the questions running furiously through the minds of all present.

  


  


"We will not be lowering the barrier that separates us from the world of men," Manwe said first and foremost, sensing that was the main point of concern. "We will remain as we have but should the men who learn of us choose to return to these lands, we will receive them. Long ago, the Enchanted Isles were built to protect us from Melkor but now that Melkor is no more and we exist in a different plane, there is no need for such protection and those lands can be used to build new cities if there are enough men in this realm to warrant it."

  


  


"This is big," Aaron whispered in Eve’s ear.

  


  


"No kidding," Eve answered in turn and fell silent again because Manwe was not finished.

  


  


"However, we have not forgotten the Eldar who have been our Children for many ages, who have given us joy and delight in their very presence here. Though many of you are happy and content to live as you always had, there is a danger in any race becoming too complacent in its existence. From the very beginning you have proved your ability to rise to any challenge, to defeat the evils of the Melkor and remain true to teachings we have instilled in you. You have graced us with starlight and we love you as we would love the children of our own bodies. As the Valar, we may go where we wish when we wish. The barrier separates our world from what lies beyond but we are not constrained by it. You however, are. 

  


  


Many have been born since the last of you returned from Arda who know nothing else of the realm beyond and crave the challenges of their forebears. So we have chosen to allow the Eldar to sail once more the Straight Road, to journey once again to Arda if they will. We must do this for you to grow as a race. For we have learnt of late that there is more to living than simple existence, to go from one day to another without change. This was not Iluvutar’s plan and we will no longer perpetuate this circle of stagnancy. We sought to protect you but even children must grow and it is only for our own selfishness that we bind you here. Valinor will always be your home but to those of you who wish it, it is does not necessarily have to be your entire world."

  


  


Aaron swept his gaze at the faces present and saw that the reaction to this momentous decision was mixed. There was joy and fear, shock and excitement. He stared at Eve and knew that their life here was going to take on a whole new meaning and Bryan was wearing a smile on his face, no doubt imagining the effect of elves walking in the world again. Aaron doubted that the interaction would be overt at first because elves knew how to be discreet. However one day, mankind would be ready to see the starlight again and when he was, it would be the beginning of a new age. 

  


  


An age of rediscovery.

  


  
****

THE END


	21. Chapter Twelve: Shifting Pawns (Cont)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

  


Unaware that this exact scenario had been played out across the globe in North Dakota in almost precise detail, Xiang Li looked at the transcript of his mistress’ telephone calls from her Shanghai apartment. He did not know why he had suddenly suspected she might be false. The thought had gripped him shortly after she had asked to come visit him in Luoning . It was a request she had never made of him before and he found it odd. After all, the effectiveness of the Luoning facility was its remote location and he doubted than Ming’s sudden desire to see him in such a wilderness had to do with her love for him.

  


  


After all, their affair was not one of the heart. He kept her in the manner she was accustomed to and she provided him with warm distraction whenever he was not on duty. There was no need to cloud the issue with strong emotions. Xiang was a career man and his ambitions would be best within reach if he did not have to worry about a family. A family required time and effort, resources he preferred to devote to his career. Ming understood this and had never asked for more then that. In the three years of their association, she had never felt the need to see where he worked though he must confess he did speak of it to her. However, Xiang had been confident she understood nothing that he told her.

  


  


Until now.

  


  


The transcripts left no doubt as to why Ming whispered sweet pleasures into his ears while taunting his flesh with her talents. Everything she had said to him was a lie, a carrot to dangle before him so that he would reveal everything he knew about the Luoning facility. She had greedily absorbed every iota of information and presented it to her superiors, no doubt for a hefty fee. A Chinese woman who had proved herself to not only a traitor to her country but also a spy for the Americans, had _used_ him. 

  


  


He sat in his office, clutching the piece of paper in his hands so tightly that it was starting to tear. There would be no hiding it. The intelligence officer who had acquired the information for him discreetly would be duty bound to report his discovery. Any chance that Xiang had of climbing the ranks was now destroyed. He would be lucky if he was not court-martialed himself for being foolish enough to succumb to the talents of a whore and a spy. 

  


  


His military career was over. 

  


  


Americans, Xiang thought with bitterness. Always needing to prove that they were better than anyone else. Sanctimoniously dictating to the rest of the world who could and could not have a nuclear arsenal when it was they who had been the only race to ever deploy the accursed weapons against another nation. The blood of Nagasaki and Hiroshima were on their hands and yet they presumed to tell the rest of the world how to manage their nuclear weapons sensibly? The hypocrisy of it burned into Xiang like fire. 

  


  


They had ruined his life because of their games. Ming would deny everything if she did not already guess that he was suspicious. No doubt by the time he came for his revenge, she would be long gone. Running no doubt to her American masters in some extravagant place like Los Angeles or New York. Well, she was not going to escape. He was going to show her that there was no place on this earth she could run he would not find her. He would show her and the American dogs that had ruined him that he was very capable of vengeance even now. If he was damned, then so be it but Xiang was not going alone. 

  


  
  
He would take Ming and the Americans with him.

  



	22. Chapter Thirteen: Domain (Cont)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

When the massive explosion beneath his castle shook the walls of his domain, Saeran could feel the agony of the Nine screaming through his psyche. Oh, he knew that they were not dead. He had not created them to die by something as mundane as fire. He was however, aware that they had failed in the execution of their orders and he was not happy about that at all. He supposed it was too much to expect them to fulfil one simple task and wondered how much of his failures in the past had to do with the incompetence of his minions.

  


  


Rising from his throne after the shockwave caused by the explosion had subsided, Saeran dusted the mortar that had shaken loose following the blast, from his clothes and regarded Irina who had sat by his side faithfully during his earlier meditation. He had better things to deal with at the moment than the intruders in his domain, especially when the influence he was wielding over the men in possession of his rings was reaching climax. 

  


  


"It appears that I must deal with this myself," he said as he walked across the floor to the sword hanging ornately on the wall.

  


  


"Why not let the Nine or the Uruks deal with them?" She asked, concern for him showing him once more the more annoying aspects of her humanity.

  


  


"You know what they say," he replied with a smile as he took the sword from its place and held it firmly in his grip. He had searched a long time for this particular sword and since it had come in to his possession, it had remained on his wall, waiting for its time. Tonight, that wait would come to an end. 

  


  


"What do they say?" She asked impatiently, wondering what was his fascination for that outdated piece of weaponry.

  


  
  
"If you want something done, do it yourself."

  



	23. Chapter Fifteen: Armageddon (Cont - 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one who made it.

  


It felt like someone had emptied a bucket of cold water over him.

  


  


For an instant, Major Andrei Nikolaevich did not know where he was. He stared at his fingers, poised upon the activation key in readiness to begin the launch sequence that would send the entire complement of thirty Class 204 SS-18s ICBMs to multiple targets across the globe from the Aleysk base. Beijing, Shanghai, London, Paris, New York, Washington, Los Angeles, Geneva, Berlin, Singapore and Sydney, the targets named themselves in his head like the memory of a bad dream that would not fade away with awakening. Every missile had been assigned a target and to his growing horror, Andrei realized how close he had come to launching all of them on an unsuspecting world. 

  


  


A kaleidoscope of images swirled around his head as the memory of the past few hours returned to him with every terrible detail intact. Nothing was spared him as he saw himself embark upon a course that would have made him nothing less than the worst mass murderer in history and for the life of him, he could not understand why. There was some residue of being wronged left in his mind, a sense that he had been angry for something that should not have driven him to this present situation. He could deny resenting his banishment to the Aleysk base when he should have been in Moscow but Andrei was a soldier first and foremost. He knew and had always believed that no matter how much he disagreed with the present regime, his duty to his country came first, not any selfish desires provoked by ambition. 

  


  


He loved his wife and his family who lived in Moscow and would suffer dearly for the crime he had almost committed. If his actions did not precipitate a full-scale nuclear strike from either the Americans or the Chinese and doomed his family to death, they would have suffered no better a fate at the hands of Russian authorities once his culpability was discovered. Tears ran down his face when he realized that he could have been responsible for the death of his wife whom he loved more than anything in the world. He had been willing to endure the Aleysk posting so that he could keep her in the manner to which she was accustomed. 

  


  


In a daze, he removed his hand from the key and looked around him to see the bodies of the men he had killed for no good reason, simply because they stood between him and his insane goal to bring about nuclear Armageddon. He had murdered them. Men, he had served with, with whom he had shared coffee with in the mess, who had looked to him for leadership and guidance. He had killed them without even knowing why.

  


  


A sob threatened to escape him but Andrei was too proud for that. He stifled it with a thick swallow and then noticed the light flashing on the telephone near him. Blinking back the tears, he picked up the gun he had used to murder his comrades while at the same time answering the phone. Holding the receiver to his ear, he listened almost numb, as a superior demanded to know what he was doing and more importantly, why he was embarking upon this course to destroy the world.

  


  


"I don’t know," he answered vaguely, unable to say much else and it was the truth, he did not know. He did not know what madness had driven him to this moment, he wished he did because at least then he would know why this had happened to him.

  


  


"I am sorry," he said softly, no longer listening to the voice on the other end of the receiver as he reached into his pocket after cradling the gun on his lap. Removing his wallet, he flipped it open with one hand and saw his wife smiling back at him, her eyes filled with love. His own spilled with tears as he kept his gaze upon that picture taken some years before and reached for the gun once again. It was ironic that the only trace of comfort in this installation was came from the cold steel of a gun rather than the picture of his wife. 

  


  


"Please tell Elena that I love her and I am sorry," he said blinking once more and causing an errant tear to roll down his cheek. 

  


  


Then without another word, Major Andrei Nikolaevich of the Army of the Russian Federation promptly blew out his brains across the console. 

  


  


*************

  


"I've got a pulse!" Aaron announced to everyone after the labours of his resuscitation efforts on David Saeran began to show fruit.

  


  


He had injected the man with an adrenaline needle and then went through the motions of CPR and every other procedure he could think of that would ensure that Saeran's heart started beating again. For a moment, Aaron had thought that they had left it too late, that Saeran was too far across the threshold to keep his death from becoming a permanent one but after minutes of using every skill at his disposal, he had managed to coax that elusive heartbeat out of Saeran's clinically dead heart. 

  


  


"Gandalf!" Haldir said with concern when the old man collapsed to the floor next to them. Of all of them in present company, only Haldir had some sense of the titanic battle Gandalf had fought to keep Sauron contained within his human husk after his heart had stopped beating. The wizard fell on the floor, his body slack with exhaustion as Haldir went to his side. 

  


  


"Is he alright?" Aaron asked, not able to leave Saeran just yet. 

  


  


"Yes, yes," Haldir nodded as he made Gandalf comfortable," he is merely weary after his struggle with Sauron."

  


  


Gandalf was still coherent enough to speak and muttered softly, "Did it succeed?"

  


  


"He's breathing," Aaron answered meeting the old man's eyes briefly before examining Saeran once more. "His left pupil is still dilated. That's an indication of brain damage."

  


  


"How long will he stay like this?" Bryan asked as Aaron returned to his comatose patient. Saeran's eyes had opened during the resuscitation procedure in a purely reflective gesture but they saw nothing. Considering how this man had almost killed all of them and brought the world to a fiery end, his harmlessness was disconcerting.

  


  


"If he is an persistent vegetative state and depending on the severity of the brain damage, it’s hard to say. I'm hoping months at least, that way we can get him back to Valinor and the Valar can deal with him themselves," Aaron answered.

  


  


"Look this is all very well and good," Eve declared wrinkling her nose at the scent of thickening smoke. "But we need to get out of here. Leggy needs a hospital and this place is already going up like a roman candle."

  


  


"She's right," Aaron agreed while flinching at the use of her hated nickname Legolas, staring at Saeran's unconscious form and knew that he would need more sophisticated equipment. "I want Legolas in a hospital as soon as possible."

  


  


"What about Saeran's pawns?" Tory asked. "Can they still go through with his plans?"

  


  


"No," Gandalf shook his head, managing to sit up now without Haldir’s assistance. "Whatever hold Sauron had upon them is over. He can no more influence them than he can escape his prison."

  


  


"So he’s in there?" Tory asked, shuddering as she saw the catatonic expression on the dark lord’s face. 

  


  


"For as long as we can keep him there," Aaron replied grimly.

  


  


"Well let’s get a move on then," Bryan said rising to his feet, eager to get out of this place. He had no more than straightened up when suddenly, a series of gunshots were heard and two bullets were pumped into his body.

  


"BRYAN!" Tory shouted in horror as she saw him go down.

  


  


The expression on his face was one of surprise as he slumped to the floor, a sickly patch of wet expanding across his chest through his clothes. His collapse preceded a sharp squeal of despair from Fred, who immediately scrambled to his side. 

  


  


The shot had come from behind the raised platform where Saeran’s throne had been and standing there, with a gun in her hand, after everyone had forgotten her was Irina Sadko. The weapon was still trained on them and though Eve swung into action, targeting the woman with just as much ruthless efficiency as she had gunned down Bryan. Aaron, Haldir, Tory and Gandalf remained frozen for the moment, unwilling to act even though Aaron was fighting the compulsion to go to Bryan. While Irina might permit Tory to move without firing again, he doubted that she would grant him the same courtesy.

  


  


"Step away from him!" Irina ordered, waving the gun at Aaron. "You’re not taking him anywhere!" 

  


  


"We’re not leaving him behind," Aaron replied, his jaw clenching because he really wanted to hurt her right this moment. "He goes back with us!"

  


  


"You have larger concerns then David at this moment," Irina hissed glancing at Bryan’s prone form. "I am a doctor as well and I know for a fact that you have an hour maybe less to get that English bastard to a hospital before he dies. A life for life Doctor Stone, you leave David here or you can let your friend bleed all over the floor."

  


  


"You will do nothing of the kind," Gandalf stepped forward hoping he could trick her. In truth, he was very weak after his battle with Sauron and a bluff was as much as he could manage. 

  


  
  
"What will you?" Irina glared at him. "You think you have power enough to stop me from shooting, say her?" She aimed her gun at Fred, "after fighting David? The only reason you’re still alive if because your friends managed to trap him before he could finish you."

  


  


"You’d kill a little girl?" Tory asked, unable to believe how insane this woman was. 

  


  


"She’s not a little girl," Irina hissed glaring at Fred. "She’s the Ringbearer and killing her is the least I could do for David. Now step away from him!" She shouted.

  


  


Aaron had no choice but to step away from Saeran, unwilling to risk Irina shooting Fred as callously as she had done to Bryan. He was thinking furiously as to how to resolve this situation since leaving Saeran here was not an option under any circumstances when suddenly an arrow sailed through the air and slammed into the woman’s wrist. Irina released an agonized scream as the shaft impaled her flesh, the gun falling harmlessly to the ground. 

  


  


"I think not," Legolas Greenleaf said wearily, lowering the bow in his hand as he sunk to his knees. 

  


  


"That was a most impressive shot," Haldir commented as he hurried towards the prince.

  


  


"Terrible actually," Legolas returned wincing in pain, "I was going to kill her."

  


  


************

  


  


Tory hurried towards Bryan as soon as Irina had been dealt with. Fred was at Bryan’s side, weeping, probably convinced that like her parents, Bryan was dead. Tory felt her insides hollow at the thought and when she saw the terrible wounds across his body, it took all her strength not to crumble completely. His clothes were saturated with blood and he was breathing hard, panting almost as he struggled to draw breath. He was not going to die, Tory told herself as she skidded to the floor next to him, refusing to accept it. Not now. Not after they had come so far together.

  


  


"Bryan!" Tory knelt down beside him and tried to remain composed. She pulled his head gently into her lap, not carrying that her clothes were becoming equally damp with his blood. He was starting to drift and the thought that he may never open his eyes again, filled Tory with cold fear. 

  


  


"Stay with me Bryan," she ordered through gritted teeth, jarring him out of his near lapse into unconsciousness. 

  


  
  
"I’m fine," his eyes fluttered open as Aaron reached them both and muttered in a barely audible voice, "its just a flesh wound."

  


  
  
Tory almost laughed but instead it escaped her as a sob, "how can you joke at a time like this?" She exclaimed in frustration, trying hard not to cry. "You always think you’re invincible but you’re not! You have people who care about you! People who love you!"

  


  


"I’m not dead yet," he raised his head weakly to look at her and then at Aaron who was going through the process of stabilizing him before he went into shock, "I’m just shot to bloody hell. It’s happened before you know?"

  


  


"Well its not all right!" she burst out, her effort at control wavering, "I love you, you twit! I love you and Fred loves you. We need you Bryan. We need you in one piece. So you keep your eyes open and stay with me."

  


  
  
"I really can’t go anywhere like this," he met her gaze with the barest hint of smirk across his face.

  


  


Well, Aaron thought silently as he worked to keep his friend alive, if Bryan did die, it would be utterly in character.

  


  


But somehow, Aaron did think he would. Irina Sadko had not lied when she claimed the wounds she inflicted upon him were not fatal. They were perilous indeed and without swift medical attention, he would die but Aaron was not about to let that happen. Bryan was too stubborn to shirk off the mortal coil without a fight and Galadriel’s riddle had been right about one thing.

  


  


After a hundred thousand years, Boromir of Gondor was finally found redemption.


End file.
